Glitternewts and Bones
by Ishkie
Summary: Dramione. It's Hermione's sixth year at Hogwarts, and have her feelings for Malfoy dramatically changed over the summer? Actually, no, they still hate each other, but Nork and You-Know-Who might change that. Dark humour, most of the time.
1. Prologue

**A/N: This is actually my first fic, co-written with 'La. I'm posting it here because I'm weeding out my other account that I haven't updated in ages. And regarding the prologue...read the whole thing! The end makes sense.**

**Disclaimer: We don't own ze Potter characters! Or ze world! We own nothing! Except Nork and plot…**

**Prologue:**

_Hermione Granger gasped as Draco Malfoy ran a hand over her breasts. "Please, no, I don't want this…" she screamed, panic in her eyes. _

"Sure you do, you filthy little Mudblood slut. You want it so bad," Draco murmured, ripping off the scared witch's robes. Hermione tried lashing out, scratching his face. "Whore!" he yelled, striking her across the face.

_Hermione was stunned and lacked the energy to push Draco away when he forced his lips against hers. Tears ran down her face, and Draco's flesh started to morph. His skin turned jet black and grew coarse hair, which rubbed painfully against Hermione's naked flesh. His abdomen thrust onto her stomach as he sprouted six more legs. Draco clicked menacingly at her, and Hermione passed out. _

Ron jolted awake. _Bloody hell, that was some dream_. _I dunno what's worse, Malfoy as a human or Malfoy as a spider._ The moonlight reflected off of the orange Chudley Cannons memorabilia in the room, comforting Ron back to sleep. _It's okay, I'll see her on the Hogwarts Express tomorrow. _Slowly he drifted back into sleep.

**A/N: Giggle. Well, some dream, eh? This is one of my favorite fanfics, so please treat it nicely and REVIEW! I have quitea few chapters pre-written, so I'll try and update this at least once a week. :-D (Er...and no, the rest is nothing like the prologue.)**


	2. Who She Likes Least

**Chapter One:**

A perfectly happy and healthy Hermione stood casually observing the barrier in between platforms nine and ten, waiting for her chance to walk through. As a group of Muggles passed she took a deep breath, hugged her parents, and stepped through the solid wall and onto platform nine and three-quarters.

The Hogwarts Express was swarming with students, and she caught sight of a few of her year mates in the crowd. She looked around for Harry and Ron, not spotting them in the crush around the scarlet steam engine. Suddenly, a wave of familiar faces broke through.

"Hermione!" exclaimed a very excited batch of Weasleys. Molly and her only two children still attending the school rushed up to her, offering to help with her trunk. Hermione smiled as Mrs. Weasley gave her a motherly hug.

"Where's Mr. Weasley?" Hermione inquired.

"Arthur couldn't make it; he had to deal with a nasty outcropping of Snapping Mailboxes," Molly told her loudly, then, in an undertone, "Order business…"

"Thanks," Hermione said as they helped her load the trunk on to the train. She carried a basket containing her grumpy, bow-legged cat Crookshanks. "Have you seen Harry?" she asked Ron, who seemed more relieved than usual to see her. His bright red hair was tousled and he had slight shadows under his eyes; it didn't look as if he'd slept very well.

"Yeah, he stayed at the Burrow with us for the last couple of weeks. He's saving us a couple of seats on the train, he figured to save a compartment of our own before they were all taken."

"Good thinking, it would be awful to get stuck with Malfoy, wouldn't it?" Hermione asked, rolling her eyes. "He makes me so angry sometimes, and it's been worse since last year," she said in disgust.

Ron agreed with her, looking uncomfortable as his ears turned slightly red. He stifled a yawn.

"Are you okay, Ron?" Hermione asked in concern. "It doesn't look like you slept very well."

"Yeah, just a bad dream," he replied in a would be carefree voice, but the further reddening of his ears showed how uncomfortable he really was.

"With Malfoy in it?" Hermione prodded, curious as to what kind of dream would affect Ron like this.

"Never mind," Ron said hurriedly. "Oh, we'd better get on the train," he said as the scarlet steam engine whistled a warning at them. "Coming, Ginny?" His younger sister scurried away from a few of her fifth year friends, red hair bouncing behind her, and joined them as they entered the train.

* * *

Half an hour later the trio sat happily conversing with friends they hadn't seen since last year, including Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, and Luna Lovegood. Luna was sitting in the corner, chattering ceaselessly about the Intersplock Bandercoots that her dad had discovered over the summer. Unfortunately they hadn't been able to catch a live specimen, as they were invisible.

Dean, Seamus, and Ron were having a heated argument about a Quidditch match that had been played over the summer; something about a player engaging in sexual acts with a referee.

"It was the Seeker!"

"No, the Beaters-both of them!" Ron said wisely.

Hermione and Neville were discussing a Herbology essay that had been assigned over the summer; Ginny listened to the various conversations alternately, adding a comment here and there.

Only Harry was quiet, he sat in the corner, violently biting the heads off of Chocolate Frogs.

"Harry?" Hermione asked quietly, slightly disturbed by his behavior. "Are you okay?"

"Wonderful," he replied, not looking it at all. Another Frog bit the dust, and Harry looked half-heartedly at the wizard card. It was a barbaric-looking wizard that brandished a club-like wand at him, and then gave him a rude gesture.

"C'mon Harry, lighten up. I know Sirius meant a lot to you, but a whole summer should have been enough time to _start_ getting over it." Hermione decided that all Harry needed was a bit of tough love- everyone kept babying him all the time.

"Do you have _any-_" Harry began, fuming as Hermione braced herself.

"Fighting with your girlfriend, Potter?" a drawling voice asked. "Didn't just break up with him, did you?" Malfoy asked Hermione, "Because that would explain it."

"No, for your information, it was about Sirius," Hermione retorted. Draco's eyes sparkled maliciously.

"Ah yes, what a shame. My father told me all about that." A look of mocking 'pity' crossed his face.

"Before or after he was sent to Azkaban?" Hermione asked sharply. Malfoy's eyes narrowed.

"Don't you start on my father, Mudblood."

Ron turned around, finally snapping out of his conversation about Quidditch. "What did you just call her, you-"

"Who said I was starting anything?" Hermione asked innocently, cutting Ron off. "I was just curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat, Granger." When Malfoy said this Hermione instinctively put her hand on the side of Crookshanks' basket. The cat hissed, yellow eyes glaring at him through the gaps in the wicker.

"Why are you still here, anyway?" Ron asked. "Don't you have better things to do?"

"Better than talking with you? As a matter of fact I do, pardon me as I go talk with Pansy."

"Oooh, that was low," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. Malfoy smirked as he sauntered off.

The conversations trailed off as Neville, Seamus, Dean, and Luna left to change into their school robes.

"Harry-" Ron began, but Hermione shook her head.

'Leave him alone,' Hermione mouthed at him. Ron didn't look happy about it, but he didn't say anything else, either.

Harry continued to ignore everyone for the rest of the train ride, amassing a large collection of headless Frogs.

**A/N: Review, s'il vous plait? Merci!**


	3. Back to School Feast

**A/N: Prologue and two chapters right off the bat...you lucky ducks. XD**

**Disclaimer: If I had a time turner this would be mine, but alas, I do not…so everything except Nork and plot belong to J.K. Rowling. For now, anyway. **

**Chapter Two**

The sky looked stormy as the Hogwarts Express pulled into the Hogsmeade station, billowing white steam in the cold air, but it had not yet started to rain.

Ron was first to walk out of the compartment, still upset with Malfoy. Harry was off second, still upset with Hermione, and Hermione followed both of them, remaining annoyed at Harry. _He can be such a drama queen_, she thought uncharacteristically.

Harry stared sullenly at the skeletal-looking thestrals that pulled the carriages while Hermione upbraided him. As they passed the winged boars Harry slowly came out of his reverie to hear Hermione conclude her tirade.

"What was that?" he asked, catching something about moping and coping. Hermione sighed exasperatedly.

"What I just spent the last twenty minutes of my life explaining, Harry, was that you need to move on."

"Like I haven't heard it before," he said, looking back out the window.

"Then you obviously haven't heard it enough," she snapped, tired of his attitude.

"Look, Hermione, when was the last time you lost a parent?" he asked, not looking back at her.

"My aunt died a week into summer vacation. Heat stroke," she told him softly, her eyes welling up with tears.

'Why didn't you tell us?" Ron asked, confused. Harry swept it aside.

"It's not the same."

"Oh?" Hermione questioned, tears vanishing and her eyes flashing dangerously. "She meant a lot to me-" Ron buried his head in his hands.

"Can we talk about this some other time?" the redhead asked, not wanting his friends to get into a large argument their first day back. The carriage fell into an uneasy silence as it stopped in front of the gates.

The three of them began eating their dinner in relative silence, only speaking when spoken to. Their Gryffindor friends were confused, it wasn't like Harry and Hermione to get into a huge argument so soon into the school year. If anyone could do it they thought it would be Hermione and Ron.

Harry didn't as much as look at Hermione through the Sorting, though he did clap when the new Gryffindors made their way nervously to the table. The silence lasted all through the salad and roast chicken, and it was halfway through dessert before he put down his fork and turned to her.

"Hermione," he started, "I'm sor-" She shook her head.

"No, I'm sorry, Harry. I know Sirius meant a lot to you. I'll try and-" she chose her words carefully, "ease back a bit." Ron snorted, Hermione rarely eased back off of anything. She glared at him before turning back to Harry. He nodded.

"I'm sorry about your aunt, I know I was a bit-" Whatever he was, Hermione didn't find out, because at that moment the plates were wiped clean and Dumbledore stood up and everyone stopped talking.

His opening speech was much like it had been in previous years; he informed them all of the new items Filch had added to the banned list, and reminded students not to go into the Forbidden Forest.

"And now, the moment I'm sure you've all been waiting for, the appointment of our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." Groans and gossip threatened to drown out the meager clapping, which soon stopped. Again Dumbledore looked around, and the Great Hall fell into silence.

"It is with great pleasure I announce Professor Connie Nork." The witch stood up, and there was another round of lukewarm applause.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and their friends at the Gryffindor table craned their necks, curious, to study their new teacher. The Slytherins looked less than enthused.

Connie Nork stood at the meager height of five feet, her thin grey hair falling to her shoulders.

"Is she balding?" sniggered a Slytherin student from their table. His voice carried all the way across the Hall, earning himself a reproving glare from Professor McGonagall.

The woman wore robes of an eyeblinding sky blue, with an inexpensive silver pin over the breast and a purple, furry scarf. She beamed nervously at the assembled students with watery brown eyes. She appeared to be in her late fifties, but it was rather hard to tell.

She reminded Harry of a nicer-looking, more well-meaning Umbridge. He wondered if she liked Technicolor kittens and horrible doilies.

"Are you all right, young Harry?" Nearly Headless Nick inquired as Harry shuddered at the thought.

"Er, yes, thanks Nick," he replied, then returned his attention to Professor Nork, who looked ready to begin a speech.

"My dear students and staff…" she began, her voice timid, "It is my great pleasure to teach at this illustrious school. You all need your sleep, I'm sure, after this exciting day, so I'll try to keep this short."

"Funny, it's already too long," said a drawling voice Harry suspected belonged to Malfoy. The Slytherins were a lively bunch this evening.

"Before you leave, I have one request to make. Would you please call me Madame Nork rather than Professor? It seems so much more approachable, and that is what I strive to be. You can always come to me at any time with your problems and I will happily assist you."

She smiled and nodded, reseating herself, her speech concluded. For this the students were grateful, and after a rendition of the school song they were sent to bed.

* * *

The storm reached all the way to the coast nearest the wizard prison Azkaban. "Soon…" murmured a cold voice. Voldemort sat with his faithful servant Wormtail at his feet, gathering his strength for the task ahead.

**A/N: I'm almost finished with the next chapter of 'Devil', so expect that in the next week or so. **

**Review?**


	4. The Potion that Maims

**A/N: I wasn't going to post this chapter for a bit, but I felt obligated to respond to Bella's review, sinceI feel terrible I didn't explain it well enough in the beginning. I am, to the best of my knowledge, the original author. My first pen name was Puzzlette, but that account got shut down, so I started posting again on Qizzle. The second time through (on Qizzle) I didn't post the prologue because I thought that was what got me kicked off in the first place, but this time I decided it really wasn't that bad, and I made sure to make a better note of it. Additionally: I originally posted through 25 on Puzzlette, but only got to chapter ten or something like that on Qizzle because I lost interest. I'm going all the way through with intent to finishon this account. AND MORE SO, just to make sure, I can also state with perfect confidence that you never reviewed my story (unless it was with a different pen name or I accidently skipped it) becauseI keep all of my review alerts, every one, and you weren't in 'em.(Don't worry, you can makeup for it this time. :-D)Does that help? If anyone has any more questions, I would be happy to forward the reviews from my other account to you as proof. Thanks for pointing that out, and I'm not ticked in the slightest. Just as long as people know that I'm not stealing it. (I would, however, be awfully flattered if someone decided to plagiarise this. Not giving anyone a carte blanche, mind you, but I truly would appreciate the sentiment before I started screaming at you.) Thank you again, Bella, I'm glad at least someone's looking out for me. :-D**

**Disclaimer: Yes, I own every character. I own absolutely everything, except Nork and Plot. Happy Opposite Day!**

**Chapter Three**

"Double potions with the Slytherins, will some things _never _change?" Ron grumbled as they took their seats at a table. The dungeon where Professor Snape held his class was cold and dank. Hermione shivered and adjusted her robes.

"Unfortunately not," Harry muttered, and Ron could have sworn he looked at Hermione when he said that. Hermione didn't notice, but proceeded to lecture them about the benefits of having classes with another house.

"For your information, having double classes is highly beneficial to us. It promotes inter-house relationships and allows for more diversity in class discussions."

"It's Potions, there _aren't_ any class discussions," Ron reminded her. She looked slightly affronted, but continued in the same vein.

"Be that as it may-"

"Ms. Granger," said a cold voice from behind her, "I think that's enough talking in class, don't you? Five points from Gryffindor, and you'll be working at Mr. Malfoy's cauldron today." Professor Snape looked down his large, hooked nose at the hapless young witch. Hermione fumed as she moved her books and ingredients next to Draco. He looked away, lifting his nose in the air with disdain.

"Still happy to promote inter-house relationships, Hermione?" Ron asked quietly, afraid of attracting more attention from Snape. Hermione didn't dignify it with a response as she started getting out and organising the ingredients they would use for the potion.

A few minutes later, as she measured beetles' eyes, she looked at Malfoy. He wasn't doing anything except watching her work.

"Are you planning on helping any time soon?" she asked irritably.

"No," he replied simply. Hermione rolled her eyes as she worked on the potion, aware that in most other groups the partner was doing at least _some_ of the work.

After adding the shredded Boomslang skin and essence of murtlap, she started turning the dangerously red-looking liquid clockwise. As soon as she finished stirring she checked the time, lowering the heat under the cauldron so it wouldn't boil, but simply simmer for the next ten minutes.

"There, I managed to finish most of it myself, no thanks to you," Hermione snapped huffily.

"It hurts, Granger, really," Malfoy smirked.

"You can be such a…such a pompous git, Malfoy." It was his turn to roll his eyes.

"You slash me with your words."

"Not yet," Hermione snapped, taking out her wand under the table they were sitting at.

"Careful, Granger, we wouldn't want anyone to get hurt," Draco said as he took out his own wand.

"That, Malfoy, would be the point."

Their eyes locked, and they had the same thought. Both muttered hexes, sending them zooming at each other at the same time. The spells collided and ricocheted off each other, and, in a disastrous turn of events, into their cauldron.

It exploded, causing a thick purple substance to coat the class. Their skin started changing colors, creating a rainbow where the liquid had splashed the students. Malfoy whimpered in pain as his skin became a nasty shade of puce.

"Get over it," Hermione said through clenched teeth. Both of them had been relatively lucky, other students had been splashed in their eyes or mouth.

"LONGBOTTOM!" Snape roared, surveying the damage done to his classroom. The fearful, bungling boy stuttered as the teacher rounded on him. "Detention!"

Hermione looked horrified. "Um, Professor, actually it was…"

Snape turned to her, eyes snapping. "I don't want to hear it, Granger, so unless you want to lose a hundred points for your precious house you will _hold your tongue_."

"But-" she started again.

"Shut it, Granger!" Draco muttered vehemently from behind her, trying to save his own skin. Hermione looked on helplessly as Neville's detention was set and students started filing off to the hospital wing.

**A/N: Thanks to my first reviewers, especially PleaseExcuse...I'm too lazy to type out your whole pen name, even though it is awesome. I've never recieved a review that long before! Ladies and gentleman, the challenge has been set. Get ready, set, write a REVIEW longer than that! XD**

**(Er, and no, the potion doesn't maim, but every two chapter titles rhyme and I was having a hard time figuring out this one. You'll see next chapter. )**


	5. And Quidditch Games

**Disclaimer: Once upon a time –insert epic story here- , and that's why J.K. Rowling owns everything but Nork and plot. (And I do assure you, there _will _be a plot) **

**Chapter Four**

Draco trudged onto the Quidditch pitch with the rest of his team, looking smaller than most of his other team mates, even for a Seeker. This was in comparison to the other Slytherin players –who all looked like they'd been on the receiving end of engorgement charms as children-, however; he would have been relatively tall for a Gryffindor.

He swung a leg over his Nimbus 2001 in unison with the rest of the team, glaring resentfully at Potter's Firebolt. How Potter had been able to afford to spend the gold to get one, Draco didn't know. Even his father Lucius had winced at the price and refrained from buying one for his son, at least until he started winning more matches against the Gryffindors on his Nimbus.

The green-robed Slytherins sneered across the pitch at the scarlet-clad Gryffindors as the team Captains shook hands. Madame Hooch blew the whistle, and both Slytherin and Gryffindor kicked off, into the clear autumn sky. Most of the crowd was wearing their winter cloaks to ward off the chill, clutching their House-color scarves closer to their necks.

As he soared around, looking for the Snitch, his thoughts turned to Granger. _Mudblood know-it-all_. Still, even though he would never admit it to her, he was slightly grateful that she kept her mouth shut in Potions. He wouldn't have put it past her to lose all those points and get them both a detention. Though the loss of points would put Slytherin in the lead for the House Cup, he didn't want any detentions.

_Enough about Granger_. He needed to pay attention to the match; it wouldn't do to miss the Snitch because he was thinking about an obnoxious Gryffindor girl. Maybe this year he would start the season out right with a Slytherin win. Potter always seemed to cheat his way into catching the Snitch. _I'll show him…_His attention returned to the game as he soared in lazy circles above the pitch, looking about sharply for the golden, walnut-sized ball with the fluttering white wings.

After twenty minutes of flying around, the Gryffindors were one goal in the lead with fifty points. Harry would accelerate and then stop quickly, peering around for the Snitch. Draco was convinced this start and stop method of searching was Potter's way of showing off the speed and braking ability of his Firebolt, as he had used a completely different approach when he had his Nimbus.

Draco heard a loud cheer as the Gryffindors scored again, and shook his head. It was only another ten points; he wasn't going to let that get to him. In retaliation a Slytherin Beater savagely whacked a Bludger at the Chaser who was now doing a victory lap around the goal posts. It hit the back of her broom, causing her to spin out of control. Draco snickered, even though Slytherin got a penalty. She missed, and Slytherin took possession of the Quaffle.

He jeered at the Chaser, a fourth year who had joined the team this year, but grimaced as Ron Weasley saved a goal thrown by a Slytherin Chaser. Unfortunately, Ron was more confident than last year and was no longer swayed by rousing renditions of "Weasley Is Our King." This disappointed Draco, who thought his lyrics had been rather good.

Crabbe and Goyle, perfectly at home in their positions as Beaters, knocked the Bludgers violently toward any flash of scarlet they could. Just as Harry was forced to roll to avoid a well-aimed Bludger, Draco noticed a quick glitter of gold.

Carefully he noted that Harry hadn't seen it, and transferred all his attention on the Snitch. He had almost lost it in the time it had taken to look at the Gryffindor Seeker, but not quite. Quickly Draco pulled into a dive, barreling toward the Snitch. The announcer, sadly devoid of personality in the wake of Lee Jordan, informed the few fans that hadn't already picked up on it that Malfoy seemed to have seen the Snitch.

Harry, noticing Malfoy's dive, accelerated after him. His Firebolt was fast, and it looked like he might actually get it before the Slytherin Seeker. Crabbe and Goyle had noticed this, however, slow as they were. Crabbe grunted as he whacked a Bludger as hard as he could in Harry's direction, and Harry, concentrating on the Snitch, didn't see it until it was too late.

_Crack._

The Bludger thudded into Harry's side a second before Malfoy's fingers closed around the Snitch. A fourth of the stadium erupted into cheers while the rest groaned. "Slytherin victory," the announcer mumbled, "Score 190 to 60." Harry, doubled up in pain, managed to fly to the ground to join his dejected teammates.

"You okay, Harry?" Ron asked, sighing. It was only the second time they had played together since Harry had been kicked off the team last year, and they were still learning how to function as a team. That was how Harry rationalized it, at least, as he saw Malfoy getting congratulated by his house mates. _Or maybe he just got lucky_. Yes, he liked that explanation far more.

Hermione ran from the stands to join the team, hugging a wincing Harry and Ron. "Great job Ron, you only let in forty points! And you did a great job too, Harry, even if we didn't win."

"Thanks Hermione," he muttered, clutching his chest.

"I'm only trying to help," she said, looking hurt. Malfoy strode up, face flushed with victory.

"The Weasel, the Orphan, and the Mudblood. Touching," he sneered.

"Now that you've described your family reunions, Malfoy, do you mind if we leave?" Hermione snapped. She turned around, followed closely by Harry and Ron.

"I'm not sure that insult really works, Hermione, they might be weasels but I don't think they're Mudb…er, Muggle borns or orphans," Ron muttered as they strode off. Hermione shrugged and supported Harry as they headed off to the hospital wing.

"It sounded good at the time. C'mon, let's get to Madame Pomfrey so she can look at Harry. I think that Bludger might have broken a rib." She shook her head disapprovingly, as though she thought Quidditch was an unnecessarily dangerous sport. And lewd, if the conversation on the train had any basis in fact.

Malfoy watched as the trio returned to the castle. Crabbe and Goyle, his veritable bodyguards, came up to congratulate him with their strange communication of grunts and gestures. _Perhaps they're part troll_, he thought to himself halfheartedly, too pleased with winning the match to be overly cruel to his lackeys.

**A/N: The Ornery Penguins were right, it was games, heh. (Thames wouldn't work though, it's pronounced 'Tems'. :-D) Little Miss Perfectionist: Ouais, je parle francais, mais pas tres bien. Er, pardon the lack of accents, I'm too lazy to do them on my computer. And thank you sandiwandi for reviewing (the plot...well, you'll have to wait until chapter 20 or so to find out. I think that's when it really starts picking up, lol), and additional thanks to Bella, I'll look forward to your reviews once I finally get caught up. XD**


	6. Brand New Duels

**Disclaimer: Maybe if I'm very good for Christmas, Santa will make J.K. Rowling will transfer all rights to me! Doubtful, however, so until then all I own is Nork and plot. **

**Chapter Five**

Very little of interest happened in the three days following the match, excluding Ron trying to tackle Malfoy in the hall once his gloating reached an unbearable level. Harry was still smarting from the loss, and his mood didn't improve after he was stopped after class by Madame Nork. Hermione and Ron stood behind him, but to their surprise they weren't shooed away.

"I've noticed that you have a bit of passion for Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harry," she started, her smiling ruddy face clashing horribly with her ill-fitting mauve robes. Hermione was slightly distracted by Madame Nork's cracked, yellow teeth that looked as though they had something growing in between them. Harry grunted an affirmative in response to the teacher.

"Keep that up and you'll start sounding like Crabbe," Ron muttered to him under his breath. Madame Nork smiled at him with her horrible teeth, but he doubted she had even heard what he said.

"As I'm informing my…exceptional students, Hogwarts is starting a Dueling League. Each house will have their own team, each team has a captain, and I'm sure you can fill in the rest on your own. It's so the students won't get too bored in between Quidditch matches," she added with a nervous nod.

"And?" Harry prodded, becoming slightly interested.

"I'm holding try-outs this weekend, and would like you and your little friends to come along." Hermione snorted in indignation, it was obvious she didn't like being referred to as a 'little friend'.

"Would you like a tissue, cupcake?" the Professor asked, leaning over to rummage through one of her desk drawers. Hermione shook her head, inwardly disgusted at the nickname. Ron snickered.

* * *

Fewer people showed up for the Dueling Team than they had for Lockhart's disastrous 'Club', most likely because this was supposed to be more serious. Madame Nork looked around, smiling at the few dozen students that had shown up. "Right! The test is simple, you're paired off and duel in front of everyone, here," she gestured to a raised platform, "and I'll evaluate your performance using a scoring system. The highest scores get on the House teams, and the highest scores from each House are made captain. Clear?" Everyone nodded. "The first pair, then, is Neville Longbottom versus Draco Malfoy." 

"Hardly fair, is it?" a gleeful Draco asked as a few Slytherins dissolved into laughter. Neville quaked and didn't move until Madame Nork pulled him to the platform.

"You'll be fine, dear."

"Is she insane?" Ron asked the others, shocked by the pairing, as the teacher bodily dragged Neville up. Once she finally got him up onto the platform she beamed at the assembly.

"Maybe she just hasn't seen their abilities yet," Hermione replied, unconvinced. "Or she really hates Neville."

Draco finally made his way to the stage, pushing up the sleeves of his robes. "Ready?" Madame Nork asked. Neville didn't nod, but she didn't notice; or perhaps she took his quivering as an assent. "Bow, count to three, and duel!" she called, looking painfully excited. "Alrighty then, one, two, three!" Malfoy smiled maliciously, and Neville panicked, casting the first spell that came to mind.

"Scourgify!" he shouted, pointing his wand at Draco, who hadn't had time to cast a spell of his own. His opponent appeared dazed, but very clean and lemony-fresh. "F-F-furn-" he began, trying to use his opponent's disorientation to his advantage, but Malfoy recovered before Neville could get the next spell out.

"Expelliarmus!" he bellowed, angry. The wand flew from Neville's hand, and the force of the spell knocked the round-faced boy off his feet. Madame Nork clapped enthusiastically.

"Very creative, Longbottom! And excellent use of Disarming, Malfoy!" Neville was helped back to his seat by Ron, who congratulated him on a job well done while trying not to laugh. Draco swept back to his seat with the Slytherins, and Hermione sniffed him as he passed.

"Fresh, Malfoy." He whipped around, pointing his wand at her. Madame Nork, seeing a duel begin that was not on the platform, was horrified.

"Stop that right now! You're in the middle of a crowd, someone could get hurt!"

"That _is _the general idea," Malfoy replied nastily as he brandished his wand.

"I said stop it!" the teacher commanded shrilly, taking out her own wand with the intent to disarm him. Hermione stood up, her own wand in hand.

"I've had enough of your crap, Malfoy…"

"Granger! I expected more of you!" Hermione ignored her, something she rarely did to a teacher. Then again, she was a very ignorable teacher. Both of them shouted hexes, but their voices were drowned out by Madame Nork's. "DETENTION, YOU TWO!"

They turned, stunned, at the teacher. She had never raised her voice in class; she had a generally unexcitable demeanor. Now that she had their attention, her voice returned to its normal volume. "You will clean my office as punishment. Report there Sunday evening at nine o'clock."

Draco glared at Hermione. He hadn't gotten out of detention in Potions just to serve one anyway. It didn't help that he liked this teacher far less; any detention Snape gave him wouldn't have been difficult. Now he would have to waste an entire evening cleaning this old bat's office…

Hermione wasn't much happier than Draco. _At least I didn't get detention with Snape, who knows what he would make me do. Poor Neville._

**A/N: Devil should be updated in the next few days. That's really all I have to say, other than to mention to snowmouse that the dream WILL make sense later. Snicker. XD (...And no, there is no rape in this fic.)**

**Oh, and many thanks to those who reviewed, I love it muchly. :D**


	7. Those Poor Fools

**Disclaimer: -dramatic music- I…I'm afraid it's true. J.K. Rowling owns everything but Nork and plot. –scream-**

**Chapter Six**

For a teacher that had just arrived at Hogwarts, Madame Nork's office was amazingly unorganized. Parchment was thrown everywhere, and large piles of books teetered precariously. Dark Detectors littered the floor, and a small, underfed looking grindylow sat forlornly in a cage in the corner. Both Draco and Hermione wrinkled their noses when they saw it.

"If my father knew that I was forced to clean up like a common house elf…" Hermione rolled her eyes at Malfoy.

"Will you shut up about your father, you, you thing!"

"Imaginative, Granger. Fancy a job writing dictionaries, do you?" He picked up a dusty scroll, but dropped it in disgust when an unknown creature scurried out of it and burrowed into the woodwork.

"Honestly, Malfoy, one more word-" Hermione warned.

"And you'll do what? Get me in detention?" Malfoy smirked as he started to kick some rolls of parchment into a pile.

"You're insufferable," she shot back, snorting when he helped himself to a candy from a dish on the desk.

"I do try," he replied, his voice muffled by the hard candy. Draco took out his wand. "Well, let's magic through this quickly, shall we?"

"Scourgify," Hermione muttered under her breath, not really meaning it as a spell. She sniffed significantly.

"What did you say?" he asked, turning around to face her. The effect was slightly ruined by the candy he still had in his mouth, and was forced to talk around.

"Oh, just agreeing that we should use magic to clean," she said, her muddy brown eyes wide and innocent. Well, it was true. After a fashion. "That's Muggle candy, by the way." He spat it out onto a pile of assignments the second years had turned in, causing Hermione to wrinkle her nose.

"Right," he said, reciting a charm to get the papers organized. Nothing happened, and Hermione pushed him out of the way.

"You're doing it all wrong, here." She flicked her wand and said the incantation. Again, nothing happened, and Draco looked skyward. At least where the sky would be if they weren't locked in that horrible, congested excuse for an office. "Oh," she began again, embarrassed, "I guess she witched the room so we can't use magic to clean. Try casting a spell, any spell."

"Expelliarmus!" he shouted, pointing his wand at Hermione. It had no effect. She glared at him while they put their wands on Madame Nork's desk, defeated. "I guess we have to do it the Muggle way." He spat out the word, as though it was shameful.

"You've never cleaned anything without magic before in your life, have you?"

"Without magic? Can't say I have." Since Hermione needed to spend the next few hours with him she bit back a reply, and chose to ignore him instead.

* * *

Forty-five minutes of intensive cleaning hardly did the room any good, and to top it off, Peeves flew in while they were sprawled on the floor, taking a break. "Naughty little childrenses, what have you done to deserve this room, of all tortures?"

"Shove off, Peeves," Draco ordered, in no mood to mess with the poltergeist.

"So you can lie there aaall tuckered out with your little _cupcake_? I think I'll stay." Hermione glared at him, and Peeves sat on top of a large set of drawers. "Oh, don't mind little Peevsie," he said wickedly. With a groan Hermione stood up to resume cleaning, and Draco held out his hand for her to help him up.

"Do it yourself," she said before turning back to the piles of rubbish. Without warning Peeves swooped down and grabbed their wands from the desk, shooting into a relatively large wardrobe in the back of the room. Both Hermione and Draco followed him in, worried about their wands and not thinking very clearly. Peeves zoomed out, shutting the door quickly before they had a chance to turn around. The lock clicked menacingly.

**A/N: Two updates in a day? I think that has to be some type of record for me. Of course, I didn't edit it much, and this is very short, but I am awfully anxious to get to the part where they interact more. And Penguins (which I'll call you because I'm lazy :-D), I update so quickly because the chapters have been written for almost a year. I update monthly (or less) on the stories that I write as I go. Truth be told, I have no idea where I'm going with any of 'em. Oh well. And your monkey story is, in fact, brilliant. ;-D ****Thanks also to sandiwandi, I am incredibly flattered you like my stories so much!**

**Oh, and this is where the dream comes in to play. You might want to read the last sentence of this again, and then maybe the prologue, because that makes the next chapter (and the one after that) just that much more amusing. Review, s'il vous plait?**


	8. An Uncomfortable Place

**A/N: Update take two. The first one had some major errors in it. **

**Chapter Seven**

They heard cackling as Peeves flew off, and they banged their hands against the door. It was solid, and didn't give at all.

"Bloody hell!" Hermione screamed at the door.

"Why the hell'd you do that, Granger?" Malfoy rounded on her, angry. Hermione was taken aback.

"I shouted because I'm locked in a wardrobe, if you hadn't noticed-"

"No, why'd you get us locked in here in the first place!"

"Are you _joking_?" Hermione asked incredulously. "I just wanted my wand back."

"You should have stayed outside, and then you could have opened the door!" Hermione was shocked. This had to be a new low, even for Malfoy.

"I was in here before you were, and I wouldn't have let you out with an attitude like that!" Both of them glared at where they thought the other one was, though they couldn't see. Again they tried to force the door open, but again it wouldn't budge.

A few minutes of frantic pounding later Hermione started to sweat and hyperventilate; her robes were stifling in the heat of the enclosed area. Malfoy heard her ragged breath, rather akin to his own. _It is very hot_… "You can always take off your robes."

"What?" Hermione asked, not sure if she heard him correctly.

"You heard me, didn't you? You can always take off your robes." Malfoy rolled his eyes at the immature way she was taking this.

"I would never, never…_strip_ for you, Malfoy."

"Christ, Granger, it's not like I can see you anyway, thank Salazar. And you _are_ wearing something underneath it, aren't you? It won't do any good if we die of overheating. Well, not if _I_ die, at least," he said as he took off his own robe. Hermione fought the urge to gag.

"You still smell like lemons," she said as she gave in, taking off her robe. He was right, there was no way he could see, it was pitch black inside the cramped wardrobe.

"And you smell like-" he sniffed, looking for something he could use against her. _Vanilla? She smells like vanilla?_ "-Mudblood." He finished, pleased with himself for coming up with such a satisfactory end to the insult.

"You can stop right there, Malfoy! I'm not going to be locked in a wardrobe with you if you act like that!"

"Pity, I don't think you have much of a choice." Hermione was fed up with him. If her wand didn't work, maybe her nails would. She struck forward, scratching him across where she assumed his face was.

"Bloody hell!" it was Malfoy's turn to swear. He lashed forward on reflex, striking her cheek. It must have been harder than he intended to, though, because her head cracked against the side of the firm wooden structure. There was silence, though after a few moments Draco was sure he heard a few muffled tears.

"Serves you right," he muttered. No reply, just a few more sniffs. "Look," he started, unnerved by her silence. "On the bright side, at least you aren't stuck here with Pansy." The sniffs stopped for a bit, and he imagined her smiling slightly. "Or Goyle, you don't want to know what _he'd_ do with you." Hermione burst into noisy tears. He had to say he was a bit pleased by her reaction, but still felt a bit uncomfortable being in such a close space with a crying girl.

_Well, if there's no one to see me help the Mudblood…_He took out a handkerchief from his pocket and forced it in her general direction.

"You carry one around, Malfoy?" she asked in a small voice after she blew her nose.

"Well, if you don't want it." He started to pull his hand back. Hermione grabbed it, though, her fingers brushing his in the darkness. As she took it he hastily wiped his hand on his trousers. "Keep it; I don't want your germs."

"How elementary of you, Malfoy. Thanks," she added as an afterthought.

000

Madame Nork opened the door to her office. It was only slightly tidier than it had been, but the students were gone. _I guess they headed back to their dorms early_, she thought, annoyed at their lack of effort. _I'll talk to them tomorrow._

000

Draco and Hermione heard someone enter the room, so they started banging on the walls again. The someone seemed to stop in front of the wardrobe by the sound of their footsteps.

000

Madame Nork looked at the slightly shaking wardrobe. "Well, what do we have here? Perfect. I think I'll leave you there until tomorrow's lesson," she muttered.

000

"…tomorrow's lesson," they heard through the door. Stunned, they stopped, and heard the figure walk out.

"That Nork is more evil than I thought," Hermione said, stunned, leaning against the wall.

"That Nork is more evil than I thought, too," Draco echoed. "Good for her." He would have approved much more under any other circumstances. _Wait, what's that?_ He sniffed the air softly, picking up the scent of blood. After running his hands over his own head and face, noting he was no longer bleeding, he turned to Hermione. "Are you okay?" He didn't care as much as he didn't want her bleeding on him.

"Yeah," Hermione said, though her voice sounded slightly pained.

"I smell blood…"

"How very vampiric of you. I guess I just banged my head on the side, that's all."

"Turn around," Draco commanded. He heard her shift.

"Why?" she asked, confused.

"I want to see if there's anything I can do, so your blood doesn't soil my robes."

"Sweet, I'm sure."

"It wasn't supposed to be." Hermione rolled her eyes as Draco carefully ran his fingers through her hair. He stopped when he heard her gasp with pain. "This it?" he asked, resting his fingers on top of a bloody bump.

"What else would it be?" Hermione asked testily.

"Point taken." He pulled out another handkerchief and pressed it against the cut.

"How many of those do you _have_?" she asked, wincing. Peeves, who had popped back in to check the status of his prank, giggled insanely with a fist stuffed in his mouth to muffle the sound.

"It's a habit I picked up from my mum." More silent giggles from Peeves. "Do you think there's enough room for either of us to lie down?" he asked, trying to gauge how big the inside of this wardrobe really was. With that Peeves couldn't take it any more, he howled with laughter as he zoomed out of the office.

"Maybe," she said, sounding faint.

"Here," Draco slid to the ground and against the wall, trying to make as much room for her as possible while still being comfortable himself. _If something horrible happens to her I'll get in trouble_, he reasoned. She murmured her thanks before passing out against his chest. "Well, this is awkward," he said to no one in particular.


	9. Showing Their Face

**Chapter 8**

Hermione still hadn't woken up by what Draco judged to be the next morning, and he was starting to get slightly worried. _I didn't hit her _that _hard, did I?_ Overnight she had gone from too warm to way too cold, and her skin felt like ice against his. He wrapped her in her robe as best he could, and when that didn't work he held her closer to himself. _The Mudblood had better do something to pay me back for this. I hope I don't get a disease from being so close_.

---

Madame Nork welcomed her Defense Against the Dark Arts students into the classroom. It was Monday morning, and Gryffindor sixth years had her first. Harry and Ron were worried; Hermione hadn't been seen since last night before her detention with Malfoy.

"D'you think he did something to her?" Ron asked in an undertone. Harry shrugged and was about to answer when Madame Nork started the lesson.

"Now I have something special for this lesson. I have attained a boggart." She waited for excited whispers that never came.

"Umm, Madame Nork?" Parvati ventured, "We already did boggarts. Third year." Madame Nork looked crestfallen.

"Oh, I guess it'll be review then." With a flick of her wand she caused the wardrobe to appear in the front of the room.

---

Draco felt a strange sensation and all of a sudden he could hear people on the other side of the wood. He banged on the door from his sitting position, causing the wardrobe to rattle. Hermione didn't wake up.

---

The wardrobe started to shake, and Madame Nork smiled weakly, still disappointed that the class had already covered boggarts. "It looks feisty today. Mr. Weasley, would you do the honors?" He shrugged and stepped to the front of the room.

_Spiders…How did I make them funny last time? Oh yeah…_ With a flourish, Madame Nork opened the door with her wand, and no one in the class -including Ron- was prepared for what came out.

Draco Malfoy fell forward, his face scratched, out of the closet on top of a beaten looking Hermione. Neither of them were wearing their school robes. Over the night a magnificent black eye had formed, and encrusted blood caked Hermione's hair. She was unconscious, and Draco's fingers were bloody.

Harry looked horrified, and took a step back. Ron gurgled; this hadn't been what he was expecting at all. _How can I make _this_ funny?_

"Oh Ron, that's your worst fear!" Lavendar squealed.

"I, er…Riddikulus!" Ron said, pointing his wand at them. Nothing happened, except a very confused looking Draco scrambled up from on top of Hermione. Ron shook his wand and tried again, while Draco thought he was in a very weird dream. Madame Nork stepped in front of him and was surprised when the 'boggart' form didn't change.

"Riddikulus!" she said firmly.

"What kind of a teacher _are_ you?" Draco asked as he stretched, smirking slightly as he realized what was going on. "Can't even make a boggart disappear." So this was her worst fear, ungrateful students.

A very distressed looking Madame Nork burst into tears and ran out of the classroom, screaming about how she was a failure. Draco sneered at the very confused looking Gryffindors, looked back towards Hermione, and then turned to Ron. "Jealous, are you?" he asked, and Ron paled.

"What did you _do _to her?" he yelled. Draco shrugged.

"You probably couldn't handle it if I told you," he said, leaning against a wall for support. He didn't have much, if any, sleep last night, and combined with the lack of food he felt a bit faint.

Harry stepped forward, and again the boggart didn't change. "Wait a minute-" he peered at Draco closely, "-you're not a boggart!"

"An astute observation," Draco said before sliding down the wall, unconscious. Harry looked around.

"Let's get Hermione to the hospital wing! Who knows what Draco did to her…" The class had circled her body, and Neville almost threw up. Ron nodded feverishly.


	10. The Hospital Wing

**Chapter 9**

Hermione woke up in the hospital wing flanked by Ron and Harry. They looked down on her with dark-circled eyes and nervous, pinched expressions. Between the two of them, Ron looked worse, she thought.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked, sounding like he feared that Malfoy had done the worst possible thing.

"What happened?" Hermione and Harry asked at the same time.

"I'm fine, Ron. Where am I?" Hermione asked, not ready to answer Harry's question.

"You're in the hospital wing, Hermione…" Ron said slowly, as though scared she wouldn't understand him.

"So I am," she muttered, looking around. "Well? How did I get here?" Harry and Ron looked at each other.

"We, er, found you in a wardrobe with Malfoy after we thought you were a boggart you were passed out neither of you were wearing robes he was on top of you his fingers were bloody his face was scratched, and you looked beaten." Harry said all of this very quickly and without pause for breath. He was unsure of which parts she needed filling in on.

Hermione stared at him, aghast. Then, surprising both of them, she began to giggle as she pieced together what had happened.

"Oh, I see." She noticed their expressions and stopped, realizing what they must think. "No, _no_! Nothing like that happened! It was all a big misunderstanding."

"Is she...hysterical, Harry?" Ron asked uncertainly.

"Of course I'm not," Hermione said briskly. "We were serving detention in Madame Nork's office when Peeves locked us in a closet. Both of us were overheating so we took our robes off."

"You _stripped_ for Malfoy?" the redhead asked, incredulous.

"No, Ron, absolutely not. It was pitch black in there, and I was wearing something underneath."

"Like your knickers?"

"_No_! Well, yes, but I had my school uniform on top of _that_. And like I said, you couldn't see anything anyway."

Harry wanted to hear the rest of the story, so he gave Ron a quelling look. Ron muttered a bit to himself, but fell silent.

"And then what happened?" Harry asked, after it was apparent that Ron wasn't going to interrupt any more.

"As I was _saying_-" Hermione glared at both of them, "After that he insulted me, so I scratched him." Looking back on it, she realized this might have been rather rash of her. "He hit me back a little harder than he meant to, I guess, and my head knocked against the side of the wall." At this both boys looked ready to hunt the Slytherin down. "Malfoy actually seemed kind of concerned though, because then he turned me around and tried to find where the blood was coming from in the back of my head." Ron was confused.

"There was blood on your head?" he asked, wondering where that had come from.

"Yes, from when I banged my head on the wall. Anyways, I guess that was where the blood on his fingers came from. He was just touching and feeling around to make sure I was okay."

"He was WHAT!" Harry and Ron chorused, horrified.

"The back of my _head_, it was too dark to see so he had to feel the back of my _head_. Honestly." Hermione closed her eyes, trying to figure the rest out. "Then I passed out, so he must have moved me around into a different position. Then when the door opened he accidentally fell on top of me."

"Accidentally, right," Ron muttered. Harry elbowed him in the ribs, and Ron stopped talking as he rubbed his sore chest.

"Then, hmm." Hermione bit her lower lip. "Boggart…Oh, Madame Nork came in and said she would let us out next class. We thought she was just being evil, but she must have thought we were a boggart, banging around like that. So, what happened after we fell out?" she prodded, curious.

Harry shrugged. "We tried to get rid of the 'boggart'. People thought it was Ron's worst fear, you see, you getting raped by Malfoy." Hermione shuddered at the thought. "And then the teacher tried, and Malfoy said she wasn't a very good teacher." Again Hermione started laughing, but quickly stopped when she saw the expressions on her friend's faces.

"Sorry, go on."

"Well, that's about it. After Nork ran from the room Harry figured out that you were real, since no one could get you to turn into their fears. So we brought you to the hospital wing with Malfoy, who had passed out after he made some rude joke."

Madame Pomfrey bustled in, noticing Hermione was awake. "You two, out!" she ordered. Harry and Ron didn't complain since they had found out what happened, and knew Hermione was all right, so they waved goodbye and left. The matron gave Hermione an evil looking potion which Hermione downed as quickly as she could.

Madame Pomfrey left, and Hermione was left with no one to talk to. Draco was in the bed next to her, but it looked like he was still unconscious. She was proved wrong, however, when he opened his eyes and looked at her.

"Staring at me, Granger?"

"You wish, Malfoy."

"Not quite. I got enough of you last night to last me a lifetime, thank you very much."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione asked sharply. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Calm down. I just meant that you passed out on me and stayed that way for many uncomfortable hours. Not my choice way of spending an evening, let me tell you. I might need to burn my clothes now; they're so soaked with Mudblood-ness."

"Can't tell me you didn't enjoy it." Hermione winked sarcastically as she lay back, massaging a kink in the back of her neck.

"At least it wasn't Crabbe or Pansy, I'll give you that."

Hermione was taken aback at the phrase that might have been a compliment. "I thought you were going _out_ with Pansy?" Draco shook his head vehemently.

"Not anymore. Simpering sycophant," he added for good measure.

"Stop insulting her, otherwise there's nothing for me to do."

"You know, Granger, you aren't that bad to talk to when you're in a hospital bed with none of your friends around you."

"Don't get any ideas, Malfoy."

"With my pure, innocent mind? I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't make me laugh," Hermione said. Draco shrugged, then winced.

"Children…" Madame Pomfrey had returned. "You need rest!"

Draco closed his eyes and looked away from Hermione, who followed suit. She thought she heard him laugh. The matron left for her office, and they sat up again. "Actually, Granger, I should stop wasting my breath on you." He lay down and, to all appearances, went to sleep.

"The pleasure's all mine," Hermione muttered.

Draco gave a loud, unconvincing snore. She sighed and closed her eyes.


	11. And Other Things

**Chapter 10**

Hermione and Draco were released from the hospital wing the next morning. After the day they got out, which was filled with explanations of what actually transpired, little of interest happened until the following week. The first Hogsmeade visit of the year took place that day— Halloween.

---

Finally, he had gathered enough strength for the task at hand. Lord Voldemort glided softly over the cold, dark, unwelcoming waters surrounding Azkaban. Though it was midday the skies were black and stormy; it looked more like night. He smiled to himself as he landed on the island rock the wizard prison was perched on. _Today…Today you go free._

---

Hermione, Harry, and Ron strolled down the path to Hogsmeade. It was their first trip of the year to the wizarding village, and all three of them were looking forward to it. Ron wanted to compare Zonko's prices to the pricelist Fred and George had sent him of their stock, Harry wanted to stock up on Honeydukes sweets, and Hermione was looking forward to getting a new quill.

"Live on the edge, Hermione," Ron told her when she said that.

"Just because some people pay attention to their studies…"

"Relax, I was joking," he replied hastily. Hermione eyed him suspiciously anyway.

---

Voldemort blasted door after door away; no Ministry protection spells were strong enough to hold him back. A dementor glided over, but made no move to stop him. The Dark Lord hissed something at it, and it left. _We are so akin, these creatures and I. And now that Azkaban's defenses have been shattered, there is nothing holding my followers captive!_

---

Before making their respective purchases the trio headed to the Three Broomsticks, looking for something to warm them up on that chilly day. Harry paid for three butterbeers from Madame Rosmerta, and returned to the table Ron and Hermione had saved. He passed the butterbeers around to his friends, and all of them took a large sip of their warm drinks.

All of them talked and joked about the new school year, and they watched in amusement as a Hufflepuff seventh year chugged a very large tankard of butterbeer. He managed to down the whole thing, but after he finished he looked like he was going to be sick. Harry and Ron laughed, but Hermione looked on reprovingly.

"Are you sure that's butterbeer?" she asked them skeptically.

"Of course it is, didn't you see what it looked like?"

"Didn't you see them put a glamour charm on it before he started drinking?" Hermione snapped back. The Hufflepuff ran out to vomit on the ground outside the tavern.

---

Voldemort strode through the cold stone walkways in between the cells, unlocking the doors as he went. The dementors, at his request, had left the island and moved on to the nearest Muggle city.

Death Eater after Death Eater fell into step behind him at a respectful distance, all of them offering praise to their benefactor. After all of them had been freed he turned around to face the small crowd at his back while Wormtail passed out masks.

"My Death Eaters-" he began, his voice carrying in the now dead quiet atmosphere, "-you have been released. To repay me I expect you to torture and kill for your Lord. You have been marked, by being sent to Azkaban you may no longer present a respectable face to the wizarding world. But it is not necessary to. I am giving you another chance at life, so kill all you can before they bring you down. You are dismissed."

One Death Eater remained to talk to Voldemort.

---

"How could you?" Pansy Parkinson asked as she made her way to Hermione's table.

"Excuse me?" she asked, confused.

"Draco! We had a beautiful thing going, and then you had to come and mess it up! Seduced him into spending the night with you…"

"We were locked in a closet, Parkinson."

"Is this the simpering sycophant?" Ron asked Hermione in an undertone, grinning. She smiled as well; she had informed them of the conversation she had with Malfoy.

"Exactly!" Pansy screamed. "You seduced him into a closet! And locked the door! And spent the night with him!"

"_Peeves_ seduced him into a closet, Pansy. And I didn't sleep with him, I wasn't even sleeping. I passed out."

"After doing _what_!" Pansy shrieked with fury.

"Shove off, or have some butterbeer," Harry told her, hoping it would gag her. He thrust a tankard at her. She ignored him.

"Or shove some butterbeer up-"

"Ron!" Hermione interrupted, kicking him in the shin.

---

"Lucius," Voldemort greeted him, the mask not hiding him from the Dark Lord's eyes at all.

"My Lord," he said, kneeling at his feet, kissing the hems of his robes.

"That will do. You wished to speak with me?"

"Yes, Lord. I have a proposition you might find interesting…"

"I'm listening."

---

When Draco swept into the Three Broomsticks, the first thing he noticed was a very annoyed Pansy screaming at an uncomfortable looking trio. He sauntered over, leaning against the wall.

"Don't get all hot and bothered over them, Pansy. They aren't worth it."

"You're the only one I get hot for, Draco," she simpered, true to description. It was Malfoy's turn to look uncomfortable while Harry burst out laughing. Ron was quieter about it, his laughs smothered by the fist he had stuffed in his mouth. Even Hermione was smiling.

---

Voldemort smiled coldly at Lucius after he had finished outlining his idea. "Yes, I like your plan. You have my permission to execute it as soon as you desire."

"Thank you, my Lord…"


	12. She Fancies the Squid

**Chapter 11**

After Draco had dragged Pansy out of the Three Broomsticks a few people burst into laughter. Ron shook with mirth, his fist still stuffed in his mouth, and Harry wiped a happy tear from his eye.

"They're just made for each other, aren't they?" he asked, getting himself under control. Hermione shrugged.

"I don't know if even Malfoy deserves that. Glad he had the heart to take her out of here, though. I can't stand that girl." Ron, stifling his own laughter, looked at Hermione strangely.

"You almost sound like you're defending Malfoy," he accused, looking at Hermione. She was taken aback.

"Well, I suppose I _am_ defending him a bit. There isn't a male in Hogwarts who deserves Parkinson," she replied, slightly confused at his tone of voice.

Ron had seemed a bit more on edge concerning Malfoy ever since the wardrobe incident, something Hermione couldn't really understand. He hadn't taken advantage of her, and one might even go so far to say that he had _helped _her.

"That's not what I mean. You seem to be much nicer to him since then, almost like you fancy him," Ron said slowly, clearly trying to find a good way to word his fears. Hermione choked on her butterbeer.

"_What_? That's absolutely ridiculous, Ron. I fancy him about as much as I fancy the giant squid!" she said after she had coughed and cleared her throat of butterbeer. Ron looked slightly better about it, but still suspicious. "For Heaven's sake, Ron! He's horrible!" Honestly!" She shook her head as she took another sip, hoping Ron wouldn't say something to make her choke again. _Well, maybe not horrible…_

---

Draco steered Pansy out of the tavern and down a slightly gloomy cobbled side street, where he stopped. She looked slightly hopeful.

"Now, Pansy, we need to get a few things straight. After last year, there _is_ no 'us'. No, no nothing, understand?" She cringed at his tone of voice, which allowed room for no arguments.

"But-" He gave her a quelling glare. "Fine, just fine. But if you carry on this way, I'll be forced to think you really do have feelings for the Mudblood." Draco blanched.

"What an awful thing to say, Pansy! I'd rather be stuck with just about any one in the school except her!" he practically shouted. She shrugged, looking hurt, if not a bit relieved.

"So you don't like her then? That isn't the reason…?" Draco shook his head.

"No, that isn't the reason. And Granger? She's horrible! Honestly, Pansy." _Well, maybe not horrible…_

---

Ron stepped into Zonko's, taking out the list Fred and George had sent him. _Impressive_, he thought as he looked it over, even Zonko's didn't have some of the things developed for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. He had just started comparing prices when Harry came in, though Hermione wasn't there.

"Where's-" he started, but Harry shook his head.

"Went to get her quill, she didn't think we would like to come. And you have to admit, she has a point as far as I'm concerned." He yawned and stretched, looking over a counter full of firecrackers. Ron couldn't stop the sinking suspicion that she had done it to avoid him, but he didn't mention this to Harry.

---

Over an hour later the three of them met in front of Honeydukes, finished with their respective purchases. Ron had mailed the comparisons off to the twins, and he and Harry had split the cost of a large bag of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans. Hermione had spent her time in a bookstore, perusing the fiction section. Without much talk they headed back to the castle.

As they neared the gate they noticed Professor McGonagall, who was outside and hurriedly ushering in students.

"Quickly now, quickly! Into the Great Hall!" Hermione led the two others up to her.

"Professor-"

"Not now, Ms. Granger. Professor Dumbledore will explain everything in the Great Hall. Oh, good, you're some of the last students..." she said, trailing off and looking down the path that led to Hogsmeade. Hermione shrugged as she walked towards the castle.

---

A short while later, everyone was sitting down around the tables, gossiping in hurried whispers about what this was about.

"I heard Sirius Black…"

"No, you prat, didn't you hear? The Ministry caught him and fed him to a fire crab, honestly…"

"Do you think the Forbidden Forest is attacking?"

"The Forbidden Forest? What do you mean?"

"I heard the trees can come alive."

"That's stupid. Dumbledore's got a truce with the _trees_. The centaurs on the other hand…"

"The centaurs? Think it has something to do with the Firenze, the Divination teacher?"

"That's enough!" Dumbledore called, effectively silencing the frantic conversations. "Now, as I'm sure you are all curious, I will inform you about what has happened," he said in a quieter tone, his face unusually grave.

"Well?" an impatient Hufflepuff prodded loudly, awaiting confirmation that four dozen vampires had indeed infiltrated the castle.

"Azkaban has been opened today," Dumbledore said simply, and most of the students gasped. "All of the Death Eaters, Voldemort supporters," he clarified, while most of the students flinched at the name, "have been set free. The dementors have left, and took over a small town near the coast at Voldemort's orders." Again most of the students flinched, and a first year fainted.

"All the work the Ministry did last summer to catch the Death Eaters, all for nothing?" Harry asked a shocked looking Hermione and Ron, horrified. Just as whispers broke out again Dumbledore held up his hand, ready to continue.

"No one will leave the castle. Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, and all other outdoor classes will either be cancelled or held inside until further notice. This is for your own safety, and I assure you, the punishment for anyone caught outside will be severe."

"But not as severe as your fate if a Death Eater catches you outside first," Snape added, which scared two third year girls into hysterics. Professor McGonagall shot him a reproving glance.


	13. Not for a Quid

Chapter 12

Most of the castle was very quiet for the rest of the day; a cloud of fear seemed to hang in the air. The Slytherin common room was immune, however, since it was mostly their parents that had been freed. Draco was downright gleeful for the first time since his father had been captured, but his mood was greatly hampered by Pansy, who seemed not to understand the meaning of 'no'.

"Draco…" she whispered in his ear for the umpteenth time that morning.

"Stop, Parkinson!" The use of her surname affected Pansy far more than the command. It didn't achieve the desired effect of getting her to shut up, however.

"Look, I know deep down inside that we can work…"

"I don't _want_ this to work, don't you get it? I want to be left alone!" He yelled, turning away from her annoying pug face. An idea struck her.

"How alone?"

"Stop it! Just alone! Very, very alone!" She sighed as she sat on the edge of the armchair he was relaxing in. Draco inched as far away from her as he could without actually getting up, which he didn't feel like doing.

"What would you be willing to _do_ to be alone?" she asked slyly. Instantly he was on his guard.

"It depends," he replied cautiously. Pansy smiled, this had been exactly the reaction she was anticipating.

"Well, how about a little bet then?" she asked, her face a picture of innocence.

"A bet? What about?" he asked. Her smile widened.

---

Harry paced the common room anxiously. It was only after he quickened his pace that Hermione shut her book and looked up at him.

"Please, Harry, you're making me dizzy," she told him after marking her place.

"Sorry," he said, not stopping. Hermione sighed.

"I don't think there's really anything we can do about this. I mean, everything else has been around Hogwarts, or has had to do directly with us! Now we're talking about fully fledged wizards that could be traipsing about anywhere on the whole bloody globe! I really don't think that there's anything we can do about it." Harry finally stopped, plopping down into a chair next to her. They had had this conversation many times over during the last few hours, and it was starting to wear on Hermione.

"I suppose you're right," he said, defeated. "Malfoy's going to be insufferable if his dad isn't caught," Harry added as an afterthought. Ron broke the concentration he had in a Wizard's Chess game with Seamus long enough to nod vehemently. Hermione opened her book again.

"He really is. Now, if you really need something to do, I advise you go talk to Dumbledore. Either he'll tell you what I just did or he'll give you something to occupy yourself with. But really, Harry, this just isn't in our power to deal with. Now, let's study this transfiguration homework." Again Harry sighed as he picked up his wand, getting ready to practice turning rings into necklaces.

---

Draco leaned forward as Pansy started to explain the bet. "I'm willing to bet that you can't make a random girl fall in love with you," she stated bluntly. He looked taken aback.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm willing to bet that you can't make some random girl fall in love with you," she said again, as though he hadn't heard.

"No, it wasn't that. Just, well, why _this_ of all things?" he asked, running his fingers through his hair.

"Well, I just don't think you can. And I want to prove that I'm the best girl that you can get out of this year." Draco snorted.

"Hannah what's-her-face, that Hufflepuff, even she would be better than you." Pansy didn't stop grinning.

"You may think so, but she's hardly in love with you, now is she? In case you can't remember, you've been horrible to most girls in this _school_. You're lucky you have me, even. Really, when it boils down to it you can only really pick between me and Millicent." Draco shuddered involuntarily.

_I can do this_, he thought, fairly confident. As far as he could tell his looks weren't the problem, just his attitude, and that was easy enough to change. "What are the terms?" he asked.

"If you get the chosen girl to publicly proclaim her love, then I'll leave you alone. If you can't, then we go on a date, and you need to tell the whole school you love me." Draco's eyes narrowed.

"Why do I need to win this bet, anyway? Why can't I just _make_ you leave me alone, no bet?" he asked.

"Well, you can't. I won't leave you, Dracikins," he felt like vomiting when he heard the nickname, "This is to help you realize your true feelings for me. Besides, if you _try_ to do something drastic to me I'll tell everyone that you have naughty pictures of Goyle." His face paled further.

"You wouldn't," he said, horrified.

"Oh, I would. This is for the best, really." _When he can't do it he'll come crying back to me, and _then_ he'll realise what he's missing_.

Draco saw no other alternative. "Fine then. Who's the girl?" he asked hollowly. Pansy's grin could quite rival that of the Cheshire Cat's. She was quite confident in her decision after she had seen his reaction toward the girl in Hogsmeade, and more importantly seen her reaction towards him. They hated each other, no doubt about it.

"Hermione Granger."

"Anyone else?" he asked, cringing.

"Harry Potter." Draco gagged.

"He's not even a-" Pansy gave him a look, clearly inviting him to finish that sentence.

"You have a point. All right, Granger it is."


	14. Wizarding Thugs

Chapter 13

The Ministry was in chaos, and had been that way ever since the re-opening of Azkaban. The freed dementors had 'kissed' over twenty-five Muggles in towns along the coast, and the wizard death toll was rising by the day. None of the escapees had been caught, and for the most part no one had any idea where they were.

"Minister!" a young secretary called, trying to get his attention. "Mr. Fudge!"

"Not now!" Cornelius snapped at him as he sifted through his daily owls. "The Bones were attacked? Oh dear…" he muttered to himself as the secretary hopped up and down in front of his desk.

"Minister!" he tried again. Fudge looked up, irritation plain on his face.

"_What_? I have business, so this better be important." Since the return of Voldemort the jovial man had hardened, grown very irritable and short tempered.

"It is sir, it is! A memo flew in this morning before you came, and I've been trying to get it to you ever since you-"

"Well?" the Minister prompted, starting to look back at his mail.

"Lucius Malfoy, sir!" He looked up, startled. The secretary continued. "He was attacked! Not by our side, either, it looks like You-Know-Who himself got to him! He's in a right state, sir, and he's being kept at St. Mungo's until further notice. He wanted to see you, sir; he says he has important information!" Fudge leapt to his feet, no small feat for a portly man, and fastened his cloak as he swept toward the Floo fireplaces.

---

Fifteen minutes later the Minister was in the hospital, waiting to see the patient. The elder Malfoy didn't have a wand on him, and he was tied to the hospital bed as a precaution. It was unlikely that he could have physically attacked anyone in the state he was in, however; he could hardly move.

The young nurse outside nodded to Fudge, who entered Lucius' private room with a bodyguard.

"Well, Mr. Malfoy?" he asked, very curious as to what this was about.

"He, the Dark Lord, that is-" Lucius paused, gasping for breath, "he attacked me, threatened my boy, threatened Narcissa, help them…" Fudge was taken aback. He had never thought of Lucius as a family man, but here he was, trying to help them with all the strength he had.

"I assure you they will be protected. Your boy -Draco, isn't it?- is under Dumbledore's protection at Hogwarts. I'm sure he'll be fine. As for Narcissa, she herself has never been accused of any dark activity, so she will go right into Ministry protection."

"Thank you, thank you…" Lucius murmured, relaxing slightly. Fudge looked uncomfortable.

"Mr. Malfoy, there are some things I want you to know. First of all, are you aware that if you had been found under any other circumstances, you would be dead already?" Lucius nodded painfully.

"I know, Minister, and I have seen the error of my ways. Ever since he threatened what is most important to me, my family, I have seen him for what he is. I am willing to assist in the fight against the Dark Lord in any way I can." Fudge looked skeptically down at him.

It was as low as he had ever seen the elder Malfoy, at his most pathetic. Cursed gashes that healers had been unable to close criss-crossed over his body, and there was a large cut through the bloody Dark Mark on his arm. The Minister could hardly help but to believe him. Still…

"Veritaserum?" he quietly asked the nurse, who nodded and returned with a small vial of the clear liquid. Lucius accepted the potion without hesitation, which surprised everyone in the room. "Well, now. Who did this to you?" Fudge asked, now confident of perfectly honest answers.

"The Dark Lord," Lucius answered hollowly.

"Why?"

"I defied him when he threatened my family."

"Did you ever participate in Muggle killings with your free will?"

"Yes." There was a sharp intake of breath.

"Why, Mr. Malfoy?"

"The Dark Lord had threatened me and my family. I didn't want them to die."

"So this wasn't the first time your family had been threatened then?" Fudge asked, confused.

"No. But this time, I had the strength to defy him. I did." The Minister nodded.

"Were you ever under the Imperius curse?"

"Most of the time." Again the room gasped, maybe Lucius wasn't as bad as he seemed. If he was doing this for the good of his family, and under enchantment, then there were grounds to dismiss his charges.

"Really…Very interesting. Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. I'll see what I can do about clearing your record. You might need to appear again in front of the Wizengamut, but at the moment I'm fairly confident you'll get off. If only we had used Veritaserum earlier in your case, we might have saved a lot of heart ache." Cornelius tutted as he stood up. "And rest assured, your family will be well taken care of."

"Thank you, thank you…" Lucius told him before closing his eyes, seemingly completely spent. Fudge and his bodyguard left, leaving the nurse alone with him. Carefully noting that no one was in the area, the nurse tipped the rest of the vial she held onto a potted plant. Lucius opened an eye.

"Are they gone yet?" he asked in a low voice. The nurse nodded.

"What did you do with the rest of the water?" She gestured to the plant, smiling. "Very good. Your Lord will repay you well."

"I live only to serve…" she said in a small voice, grateful that her long healer's robes covered her Dark Mark.


	15. A Face Like a Pug

**Chapter 14**

Draco looked appraisingly at Hermione when she sat down for breakfast. Of course he had agreed to the bet, anything to get rid of Parkinson once and for all. _But Granger? _He sighed. Of course Pansy wasn't going to make it easy, the Mudblood _hated_ him. And he hated, or at least seriously disliked, her for that matter.

_At least she isn't the ugliest girl in the year_, he thought. Far from the prettiest, to be sure, but she also wasn't that Eloise girl. After the Yule Ball two years ago Hermione had gone back to her former bad posture and bushy hair. _Now, if she only worked that hard to look good every day…_Draco started to get lost in his thoughts, and hardly noticed when breakfast appeared.

As he started on a piece of toast an owl landed in front of him. He opened the crisp white envelope, and his eyes widened when he read the news. It was from his mother, the first letter he had received from her since his dad went to Azkaban.

_Draco-_

_I hope you're doing well in your studies. Now, this may come as a bit of a shock, but the Ministry has custody over your father._ _Before you think the worst, he is all right. He defied the Dark Lord and is going to spy for the Light side, and help Dumbledore. I am ever so proud of him._

_Love, _

_Narcissa_

He was shocked, and was about to put down the letter when he noticed more words flickering into existence at the bottom of the writing.

_The next bit is bewitched for your eyes alone_.

The words faded, and a new paragraph appeared.

_Your father and the Dark Lord have come up with a plan to clear our name. So far it is going wonderfully, and that prat of a Minister lapped it up. I won't give you the details in this letter, just in case, but be willing to play along with anything that comes your way. _

Draco felt immensely pleased with his father and his clever plan. He read on.

Even in the letter he could sense his mother's sarcasm, and he looked up at Ron quickly before reading the rest.

_The letter will only reveal its true contents to you, so don't be hesitant about leaving it where someone might read it. You might even want to drop it in a classroom, let the teachers believe our family means the best. _

As he set down the letter Draco smirked. Now that he knew his father was on top of things he felt much more in control, and much more ready to handle the Granger problem. _In fact…_

---

Hermione stood up from breakfast earlier than either Harry or Ron, who were each eating their third plate of food.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked after he had swallowed. Hermione shrugged.

"The library I guess. Someone just turned in the only copy of The History of Arithmancy, which is something I've wanted to read for a while." Both Harry and Ron looked very uninterested, so she took her leave.

Draco saw his chance and took his leave of the Slytherin table. He quickly wrote something on a piece of spare parchment and stuck it under the letter as he hurried toward the door.

He pretended to look over his parchment as he left the Great Hall, and just as he expected he bowled over Granger in the hall outside. Her bag fell, spilling books everywhere, and he dropped everything he was holding. She looked up at him accusingly.

"Sorry, Hermione," he said as he helped pick up her books. Instantly she was on her guard. Not only had he called her by her first name, but as he picked up his own books he looked _happy_. Not happy that he had knocked her down, just, well, happy.

She didn't say anything as he stood up, just looked at him as he walked away. Humming. Draco Malfoy was smiling and humming, and had called her by her first name. She turned toward the library, trying to think of a reason he would be in such a good mood.

When she spread out her books on the library table the answer came to her. In between her Ancient Rune guide and Transfiguration textbook was a letter and a piece of parchment, both of which most definitely were not hers. She picked them up and looked at the name on the letter.

Draco. Of course. He must have accidentally put them in her books when he bumped into her. She looked around, thinking that he probably wouldn't want her to read his mail. In the end her curiosity won out, and after glancing around again guiltily she unfolded it.

Hermione skimmed through it and gasped with shock. _Help Dumbledore…ever so proud of him…_This didn't sound like the Malfoy family at all, being so happy that Lucius turned to the light side. _Is this why Draco was so happy? But that makes no sense; he seems like a Death Eater Jr. He wouldn't want to give up an excuse to torture Muggles, would he?_

Even more intrigued, she unfolded the parchment next to the letter. It looked like something that he had started to draft as a reply.

_Mum-_

_That's wonderful news. I'm glad he finally took our advice and turned, did he fight the Imperius curse? Do I need to keep up the act any more? When_

And that's where it stopped. Hermione was stunned. _Could it be that maybe he wasn't as bad as everyone thought he was_?

Draco snickered to himself as he watched her read the letters over and over. She stood up, and he quickly headed over to his table on the other side of the library. As she got closer he put on a great show of looking through his books and pockets, like he was trying to find something.

Hermione gasped when she saw him there. She figured it was the notes he was missing, and that if she didn't tell him she had them he would figure out that she had them eventually.

"Malfoy?" she asked shyly. He looked up. In place of the annoyed expression she had imagined, however, he just looked startled.

"Yes, Hermione?" There it was, her first name again. She frowned to herself, wondering what brought that about.

"Well, I think you left something of yours in my bag by accident," she said in a rush, taking the letters out. His pale face paled further, and he looked a bit embarrassed.

"Did you, erm, did you read them?" he asked. This definitely wasn't the reaction she was expecting; she had thought he would be angry at the very least. This only served to make her more suspicious.

"Why?" she asked, and he turned a bit red.

_This is just too easy_, he thought. "No reason, just a letter from my mum. Nothing special." Hermione fidgeted with the papers before handing them into his outstretched hand.

"I did read them, actually."

"Oh?" he asked, tucking them into a pocket deep inside his robes. He looked like he was very nervous, and trying to be calm.

"Did you mean it?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Every word," he muttered before packing everything up quickly and hurrying from the library. Hermione just stood there, stunned. _There really is more to Malfoy than I thought._

---

When he was sure he was out of earshot Draco leaned against the stone wall, barely containing his laughter. He contented himself with a self-satisfied smirk. He had felt a bit guilty, but that was greatly overshadowed by the joy he had felt for making so much headway. _This bet is going to be easier than I thought_.


	16. Chapter Titles are Hard

**Chapter 15**

A redheaded man sat at his desk in the Ministry, writing a report about the day's work. He had just dipped in his quill, ready to write a new paragraph, when his partner spoke for one the first time that day.

"Go home, Weasley, you've worked enough. Ever since…" The man couldn't finish his sentence, but the unsaid words hung in the air. _Ever since Voldemort returned to power, ever since the Death Eaters escaped from Azkaban, ever since, ever since, ever since._

"You're right," he muttered, defeated. After finishing the paragraph and making a note to himself he set down his quill, sighing. "Right then." They didn't exchange any more words as he shrugged on his cloak and left the office.

He walked down to the main floor and checked out of the building.

"Evening, Weasley," the doorman said. He nodded in reply, and left the building through the phone booth. Normally he would have flooed out, or apparated, but he felt the need to get a breath of fresh air.

The London sky was dark and gray, matching his mood quite well. His mood ever since…Again with the 'ever since'. He sighed as he got out his wand, preparing to apparate.

"Petrificus Totalus!" a voice called, effectively freezing the redhead. A woman with thick black hair stepped out of the shadows, catching him as he fell. She plucked Weasley's wand from immobile fingers. "You weren't planning on going so soon?" she asked rhetorically, glancing up and down the street.

It was deserted, though the Ministry entrance was only a few blocks away. The woman nodded in satisfaction, throwing an invisibility cloak over him, and donned an invisibility cloak herself. "Useful, aren't they?" she asked, though she knew he wouldn't, couldn't, answer.

He heard her mutter something and felt himself rise, then float beside where he assumed she was. He lost track of where she was leading him, and a while later he stopped. The woman reappeared, and also took off the cloak he was wearing.

---

Hermione remembered her morning in the library. She had thought over the letters again and again, convinced there was something she was missing. There was no way this was Malfoy, the cold Slytherin. Then again…he had seemed civil when they were locked in the wardrobe. _Could this really be the true Malfoy?_ she had mused to herself.

Then she checked her watch, and gave a start when she realized that Charms started in five minutes. She had rounded up her books and levitated them into her bag with a quick spell, and ran for the door.

Professor Flitwick had given them a rigorous lesson on dancing charms, and she hadn't had time to tell Harry or Ron about Malfoy's behavior. In fact, she hadn't gotten the chance to do so until right now. And now…

Her friends were sitting in front of her at a table by the common room fire after dinner, looking quite bemused at her attitude.

"Well, Hermione?" Ron prodded.

"Oh, right," she said. She had gotten lost in her train of thought, but she snapped back at Ron's voice. "Right," she repeated. "Well, this may come as a bit of a shock, but I don't think Malfoy's all bad."

Their reactions were hardly what she had expected. Hermione had thought they would look shocked, perhaps even angry. Ron just looked blank, and Harry looked politely puzzled.

"Hunh?" he asked after a moment. "What do you mean?" Hermione sighed with relief, at least they weren't angry. Of course, they also had no idea what she was talking about.

"Well, there were these letters. Malfoy got one from his mom, and he started writing her back-"

"You were reading Malfoy's mail?" Ron broke in, incredulous. Hermione waved it off.

"We bumped into each other and he accidentally put them with my books, long story short. Anyways, they were about how Lucius had been placed under Ministry custody, but was going to spy for Dumbledore." At this they really did look shocked, but Hermione continued, "And Narcissa -you know, his mum-, actually seemed _pleased_ about it in the letter. Then there was a reply Malfoy had started to write, and it was about whether the Imperius curse was over and he could stop acting."

Harry still looked rather perplexed as he sorted through this information, but Ron had started to seem rather suspicious. "So you just took his word like that?" he asked. Hermione shook her head.

"Of course not, that alone wouldn't have convinced me of much. But the way he acted when I told him I had the letters, _that_ really got me thinking. He couldn't have known I would read them, and he seemed nervous or embarrassed, even. Very un-Malfoy like behavior," she concluded. It was Ron's turn to shake his head.

"How thick are you, Hermione? This is Malfoy we're talking about; of course he would know you would read the letters. It's all some elaborate scheme, it has to be. Honestly. He just wants something, that's why he's acting like this." Hermione looked hurt.

"Did it ever occur to you that some people can change? I for one am willing to trust that he's changed, even a little. Maybe we could talk to him or something."

"Ta-_Talk_ to him?" Ron stuttered. "Have you lost your _mind_? Like I said, this is probably just some odd scheme he cooked up." Harry, who hadn't had time to fit in a comment edgewise, finally broke in.

"Maybe Hermione's right, Ron. Of course I think it's a bit fishy," he added hastily when Ron shot him a glare, "but I also am willing to trust Hermione on this one." Hermione beamed, and Ron looked severely put out.

"Your funeral," he muttered under his breath. "I'm off to sleep," he said more loudly as he stood up. Harry stood up as well, but Ron shook his head. "Why don't you stay down here with Hermione, since you two agree on _so_ much." It was Harry's turn to look hurt, but he didn't say anything as Ron ascended the stairs to the boy's dormitory.

"Thanks Harry, I hoped you would understand a bit." Hermione hugged him briefly, earning her a 'humph' from the top of the stairs. Apparently Ron hadn't quite left yet, but the door slammed a second later. "Oh, don't worry," she told him when he looked worriedly towards the closed door. "He'll come around. Goodnight." She turned and walked towards the girl's dormitory, leaving Harry alone at their table next to the fire.

---

After the cloak was removed, a few people gasped. "She actually got him?" someone asked.

"Weasley, Weasley, Weasley," a cold voice muttered. A cold voice belonging to, almost unmistakably, Lucius Malfoy. "Wondering how I was released from St. Mungo's so quickly?" he asked, reading the redhead's thoughts. Of course everyone had heard about the infamous Mr. Malfoy's hospital stay and his change of heart. "It has to do with some clever nursing." This appeared to be some sort of inside joke, because a few people laughed.

After he was tied and bound, Lucius muttered the counter-curse. "Now, Weasley, I do believe you have some information for us." He shook his head.

"Never," he spat, looking up from his sitting position at the elder Malfoy.

"Never? Never say never, my freckled friend." His captive said nothing. "Well then, we'll see if we can change your tune. Crucio." Weasley tried to bite his lip against the intense pain, but it was no use. He screamed, and Lucius cast a silencing charm on him. After a few moments Malfoy stopped the curse and released the silencing charm. "Now then, tell me about the Order."

"What order?" the captive panted, wincing and out of breath. He inhaled sharply as Lucius kicked his stomach.

"Don't you play stupid with me. The Order of the Phoenix, slaves to Dumbledore's good intentions. I want information."

"I have no idea-" he started, but he was cut off.

"Of course you have 'an idea'. You're a Weasley, it's very well known that all Weasley's serve Dumbledore quite faithfully. Tell me!" There was silence, and then he started to speak.

"_Mr_. Malfoy, I did believe you knew me better. I would never, and I truly mean _never_, tell you _anything_ that I may know, think, or _assume_ about _anything_ your lord could use to his advantage." He spoke in a deliberate and forced manner, leaving no room for argument.

"Well then. I suppose I'll just let you go." Weasley snapped his head up, hardly daring to believe what he had just heard. "I see that you won't speak, and I respect that."

"Ex-Excuse me?" Lucius smiled.

"Then again, perhaps not. Avada Kedavra." Percy Weasley slumped to the ground, completely lifeless.


	17. For I Am No Bard

**Chapter 16**

Draco snickered as he strode into the Slytherin common room that evening. He made his way over to a couch near the back where Pansy was sitting with Crabbe and Goyle. Pansy didn't look too happy about the seating arrangement, and looked very relieved when she saw Draco.

"Well?" she asked, looking at him expectantly. Goyle inched towards her, and she glared at him. Muttering to himself, he moved back. "What happened? How did it go?" she prompted, turning back to Draco. He replaced his satisfied expression with a frown.

"Did you _have_ to bring that up?" he asked, running his fingers through his slicked back hair. Goyle was too busy staring at Pansy to hear anything, but Crabbe looked confused.

"Huh?" he grunted. Everyone ignored him. Draco sighed, flopping onto a chair opposite the couch.

"Horrible. It went horribly, all right?" he muttered, and Pansy looked positively gleeful. He smirked inwardly. "I mean, I missed six questions! Charms has never been my subject." That wiped the happy expression off of Pansy's face.

"The bet! I meant the bet!" she hissed at him. He pretended to look puzzled, though he knew full well what she was talking about.

"Bet? What bet?" he asked. Pansy's eyes narrowed, and Draco had to fight back a giggle. Malfoys did not giggle.

"You know perfectly well which bet!" By now both Crabbe and Goyle looked completely lost. Draco smacked his hand against his forehead, as though just realizing what she was going on about.

"_That_ bet! Well, it must have slipped my mind. Why, I haven't thought about it since this morning, when we spent some quality _alone_ time in the library." He gave her a meaningful glance, and Pansy gaped at him.

"You-You…"

"Yes?" he asked, checking his nails.

"You…"

"I believe we have well established that it is, in fact, me," he said icily. "Crabbe? Goyle? Come." He stood up, followed closely by his cronies. Pansy still looked shocked as the three of them made their way to their dormitories.

"Granger? How could he? How could _she_?" she muttered to herself, not believing it. A third year raised an eyebrow at her before moving his Transfiguration assignment to a table farther away. Pansy didn't notice, and kept muttering to herself.

---

Ron grumbled as he made his way down to breakfast that morning. Harry was already gone by the time he woke up, and knowing Hermione she already would have finished breakfast and gone to the library. He thought that this was a horrible way to spend a Saturday, but Hermione seemed to enjoy it.

He was still grumbling when he entered the Great Hall and took a seat next to Dean Thomas, who was busy poking around his eggs in a forlorn way.

"Morning," Ron said as he got some eggs of his own. Dean nodded, still poking around the eggs. "You okay?" Dean shook his head.

"Lavender broke up with me this morning," he said, not looking up from his plate. Ron sighed.

"Tough luck, mate." There was an uncomfortable silence. "Say, have you seen Hermione or Harry this morning?" Dean nodded.

"Harry already ate. Went to Hagrid's I think. Hermione hasn't been down yet." Ron was surprised; it wasn't like Hermione to sleep in, even if it was the weekend.

"Oh." Neither of them said anything as they ate.

A few minutes later Hermione entered the Great Hall, her face buried in a book. She felt her way into a seat and blindly put some food on her plate, too engrossed in her book to see what she was eating.

"Hermione?" Ron asked.

"Hmm?" Hermione replied, not looking up from her book.

"Your sleeve's in the butter." She finally looked away from her book and wiped the butter off with a napkin. After she was finished she turned back to her book, not looking at Ron.

"Hermione?"

"What?" she snapped, closing her book. Ron gulped.

"Sorry for last night," he mumbled. "I just don't think that, you know, Malfoy's changed. I only have your best interests in mind, really…" he trailed off. Hermione didn't look very impressed.

"That's nice. You know, it would be nice if just once in awhile I had friends who trusted me. Wait, I have Harry." Ron looked down at his plate.

"Hi, Hermione, can we, um, talk?" Both of them looked up, completely surprised to see Draco. Hermione recovered more quickly than Ron, and nodded.

"I guess, what about?" She had never seen Malfoy look more flustered. Well, maybe yesterday in the library. He looked pointedly at Ron, and Hermione took the hint.

"I was just leaving anyway," she said as she stood up. Ron frowned as he watched them go, wondering if he should stop her.

"He's not your type," he called after her, though she was already gone.

---

Hermione was very confused as Draco led her out of the Great Hall. She had had half a mind to refuse, but she wanted to show Ron that after yesterday she trusted Malfoy. Trusted that he'd changed, if only a little.

"I need to talk about the letters," he said in a rush, looking at her anxiously.

_I am so unbelievably good_, Draco thought as he watched her. _She went with me, no questions asked. The bet'll be won by next week._

Hermione nodded. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that, too." _Wait, he actually wants to talk? Something isn't right. Maybe Ron had a point, after all. Maybe…_

"I…" he started, and Hermione looked at him expectantly. "I don't know how to start." She let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding.

"You said something in the letter about your father and the Imperius curse. Is that true?" she asked. He had hoped she would bring that up.

"Yes, father has been under the Imperius curse for years. We, me and my mum, were also threatened by the Dark Lord or his supporters. That kept him in line when he wasn't being controlled magically. Sometimes I was even under the curse my-"

"Hermione!"

"-self." Draco was rather annoyed that he had been interrupted, at the sound of Harry's voice Hermione had pulled away from him. Leave it to Potter to ruin his little speech.

"We can finish this later, okay?" she said as she hurried off to join Harry.

"Right." Draco's lips curled up in a smile. She believed him.


	18. Impatient to Boot

**Chapter 17**

Ron was staring sullenly at his kippers when what looked like a dirty feather duster landed in front of him, half drenching its feathers in a bowl of oatmeal. It hooted feebly at him, holding out a leg.

"Errol!" Ron identified with surprise. "I didn't know you had such a long trip in you." The owl shook his leg, clearly impatient that Ron read the post. "All right, all right," Ron grumbled, untying the letter. Errol, his duty discharged, gulped some water from Ron's glass and promptly keeled over.

Ron's eyes widened as he read his mother's loopy scrawl. Though his mother's handwriting was normally very neat, it looked like her hand had been shaking badly. Tear drops appeared to have spattered the page, causing some of the ink to smudge, and one edge of the parchment was slightly crumpled.

_Percy…Dead? No…I don't believe it…I wonder if mum would let me have his owl?_

---

"Hermione," greeted Harry as she made her way over. "Talking to, er, Malfoy, were you?" She nodded shortly.

"Well, sort of. Mostly he was talking to me. Something about the Imperius curse and how it controlled him and his father. Yesterday I was quick to believe him, but today I'm not so sure. It's just so un-Malfoylike to talk to me about it. I'm beginning to think Ron is right, maybe he does have some evil scheme." Harry nodded, and looked a bit relieved.

"Does that mean you've forgiven Ron then?" he asked hopefully. Hermione shook her head.

"Just because I –somewhat- agree with him now doesn't mean he shouldn't have trusted me about it yesterday. At least you were willing to listen." Harry sighed.

"But, Hermione, maybe he just wants you safe? And if you do agree with him today, it just means that he had a good point yesterday." As he finished Hermione looked cross.

"He told you to say that, didn't he?" she asked irritably.

"Of course not! I just don't want my two best friends fighting. Ron was just trying to help, you know." Hermione still looked unconvinced, but she cut off her response when the two Gryffindors saw their red haired friend approaching.

"Hermione?" Ron asked tentatively.

"Hi, Ron," she said. Even though she said it perhaps more stiffly than normal, he still looked relieved that she had spoken to him in the first place. "I was talking to Harry, and he seems to think that I overreacted yesterday. Maybe I did." It was obvious that it took a lot out of Hermione to admit that she was wrong.

Ron nodded, and wondered whether or not to tell his friends about Percy's death. In the end he decided not to, figuring he didn't want their outpourings of sympathy. Of course he was sad about it, but after Percy practically estranged himself from the rest of his family last year he was finding it hard to get too worked up about it.

"We were just discussing Malfoy, and how he probably is up to something no good," Hermione informed Ron.

"So you agree with me then?" he asked Hermione, looking pleased with himself. It wasn't that often that she would listen to his opinion.

"I thought it over and came to the most obvious conclusion," she said delicately.

"So, you agr-" he started again, but was cut off when Harry elbowed him in the ribs.

"Don't push it," he muttered, and Ron grinned sheepishly.

The three started back on their way to Gryffindor Tower, skirting a crowd of surly looking Slytherins and another group of irritable looking Ravenclaw seventh years studying in the corner of the courtyard outside.

"What are you going to do about Malfoy?" Harry asked Hermione. She looked thoughtful for a moment.

"I suppose I'll just confront him about it the next time I see him. I'll make it seem like I already know what he's up to, if he is indeed up to something, and he might end up telling me what he's doing. At the very least he should leave me alone after that," she said. Ron clearly looked like he wanted to say something, most likely that when Malfoy got a plan he wouldn't let it go so easily, but in tribute to their newly patched relationship he held his tongue.

"Sounds like a plan," he said instead. Just as they neared the last corridor Hermione stopped, looking stricken.

"Oh no, I forgot my book in the Great Hall! I'll be right back!" she called back over her shoulder, as she was already hurrying off.

"Can't get between Hermione and her books," Ron said fondly as he shook his head. Harry gave him a strange look.

---

Hermione was hastening down a hallway near the Great Hall and, more importantly, her book, when she saw someone sitting against the wall.

_Malfoy? A perfect time to confront him…_But as she neared him, she realized something was wrong. He was staring off into space, and looked lost. It almost looked like he was trying not to, to cry? That was preposterous; Malfoy would never do something like cry. At least, not when he wasn't being attacked by a hippogriff.

"Um, Malfoy?" she asked, walking up to him slowly, her book forgotten. He appeared not to hear her. "Malfoy?" she asked again. When he didn't respond she waved her hand in front of his face. "Earth to Malfoy?"

"Get away from me, Granger," he said, even though his voice lacked conviction. For some reason the use of her surname stung Hermione, she had gotten rather used to him calling her by her first name.

"Are you…are you all right?" she asked. He looked up at her with hollow grey eyes.

"My father died."


	19. No Horn to Toot

**Chapter 18**

_Lucius gasped as he stumbled into a cold stone courtyard. A cloaked figure in the corner stood up quickly._

_"You fool! You lead him _here_? How dare you, Malfoy!" Lucius cringed, waiting for the curse he knew was coming. "Crucio." The elder Malfoy didn't bother holding back his scream. As suddenly as it started the curse stopped, and Lucius was left gasping for breath on the cold flagstones. The figure walked slowly over to his crumpled form. _

_"My lord, please," Lucius tried to beg, but it was no use._

_"No, my _dear

_"But we _have_ been discovered here, Lucius. It was simply a stroke of luck that our…discoverer chose not to divulge our location. I cannot risk this happening again."_

_"Please, my lord, I have accomplished so much since you so graciously released me from Azkaban. My name has been cleared; I am valuable to you…"_

"Please…"

"Avada Kedavra." A jet of green light shot out of Voldemort's wand, then suddenly disappeared in mid air. There was a thump. Voldemort walked around a gasping Lucius and kicked an invisibility cloak off of a dead body. "No one can hide from Lord Voldemort…" he mused, seemingly to himself. He turned back around to Malfoy. "Now, where were we? Right, you were pleading for your life. Do continue."

"I will serve you even more faithfully now, my lord. I will not make any mistakes, and I can tear the Ministry apart from the inside for you, if only you let me live. Please, please." The normally calm, collected, and cold Lucius was almost in hysterics.

---

Madame Malfoy,

We regret to inform you that your husband, Mr. Lucius Malfoy, has been killed by You-Know-Who. It appears that he tried to go after the Dark Lord with the aid of an auror, and both were killed in the process. Your husband's head was never found.

With Deepest Sympathy,

Cornelius Fudge  
Minister of Magic

_Narcissa put down the letter with shaking hands. She knew of course that Lucius had done no such thing as attack the Dark Lord; he must have done something to displease their Master. _

_Just as she finished writing and sending a letter to Draco a house elf informed her that there was someone at the door. Narcissa took a deep breath and ordered the elf to show them in. What she saw next almost made her scream out loud, it was the Dark Lord himself. And now she knew what had happened to Lucius' head, Voldemort was holding it by the hair._

The next day Narcissa was checked into St. Mungo's by a concerned house elf; she had been tortured out of her mind. For her protection no one, not even her son, was informed of her stay.

"Are you…are you all right?" she asked. He looked up at her with hollow grey eyes.

"My father died." Hermione's eyes widened. She wasn't sure what to feel about this; on the one hand, she was sure Lucius had been a Death Eater, but on the other, no one deserved to lose a parent. Not even Malfoy.

"What happened?" she asked, nervously fiddling with a fistful of robes. She would have liked to go back to the common room, but she couldn't just leave him like this.

"Dark Lord," he muttered, turning away from her. "They couldn't find his head." Hermione blanched.

"Is there anything I can do?" she asked, still fighting the urge to run away.

"No. I was just going out to practice Quidditch." Hermione almost snorted, thinking of boys and their brooms. Flying always cheered Harry up, no matter how low he was feeling, so she figured Draco should be okay for the moment.

"So you don't need anything then?" she asked, hoping that meant she could get off the hook. Just as Draco was about to say that no, he absolutely did not need anything from her, he noticed Pansy coming around the corner. He remembered the bet and his face hardened in resolve. Now more than ever he didn't need Pansy on his back.

"Actually, there is something you could do, Hermione." Pansy stopped in her tracks. Hermione didn't notice her as Draco's words sunk in. "Could you," he wished it didn't have to come down to this, "could you fly with me?" Hermione squeaked.

"What?" she asked. Draco sighed, dragging himself to his feet.

"I just don't want to be alone right now." _Actually, I'd like nothing better than to be alone. My father…_

Hermione was conflicted. She definitely didn't want to _fly_ with him; she was scared enough of brooms as it was. And fly with _Malfoy_? Hermione didn't like that idea at all. Still, his dad _did_ just die, and he seemed to need emotional support.

"Of course," she said through clenched teeth.

"Thank you," he murmured before starting down to his dorm for his broom. Pansy stayed where she was, her mouth hanging slightly open.

---

Fifteen minutes later Draco was trying to figure out how to get both of them on the broom. This was far more contact than he would have liked, and he had half a mind to call off the whole thing. Whenever he was about to say something, however, Pansy's pug face appeared in his mind. That was all the motivation he needed.

"Here," he said, "You sit up front. Otherwise you might fall off the back." Hermione raised her eyebrow in suspicion, trying to find any hint of malice in his voice. "Well?" he asked, and she sighed as she clamored on to the front of the broom hovering in front of her. It wasn't very comfortable.

"Like this?" she asked.

"Move forward a bit, I need to get on too," he said, a very faint ghost of a smirk on his face. She moved up.

"How about now?" Draco nodded.

"That's good." _I wonder how mum is. Maybe I should go home for a bit, see how she's holding up. Did she get my owl?_ Thoughts churned in Draco's head as he got on the back of the broom. "Now, I'm going to control the broom, so I have to reach in front of you. I don't trust you with it." Hermione wondered whether or not she should be offended.

"Fair enough, I don't trust me with control of a broom either." She held back a shudder as Draco's arms snaked around her waist to hold the front of the broom. This was a bit creepy, and he was definitely invading her personal space.

"Going up…" Draco slowly rose through the air, and Hermione tensed considerably. Her body was conflicted between leaning back onto Malfoy, which went against pretty much everything she knew, and not leaning back, which meant she would be scared out of her mind. She settled on being scared. This _was_ Malfoy, after all.

---

Pansy huffily routed through the Quidditch supply room, finally finding the box she was looking for. She dragged it to the corner of the pitch, where Draco and the Mudblood were the only other people present.

"I'll get you, _Granger_, we'll see how much you like Draco when he lets you fall off his broom." She got ready to open the box and release a Bludger.

---

As they went faster Hermione almost thought she heard Draco laugh, but it could have been the wind. At any rate, it was gone before should could identify it. She still wasn't sure why she was up here when there was perfectly good ground, but if it helped Malfoy deal with a dead parent then so be it. After she got back down she would never have to talk to him again.

Just as she was starting to enjoy herself, not that she would ever admit it, she saw a small black something moving toward them. Draco, bringing the broom a bit higher, didn't notice anything.

"Umm, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, still not comfortable with calling him by his first name.

"Yes?" he asked. The black thing was coming closer at an alarming speed. If she didn't know better then she would think it was a Bludger. But really, there was no way one of those could get loose. Was there?

"I think there's something moving toward us, very quickly, and it might be a-" she gasped; now that it was closer it was painfully obvious what it was. "DOWN NOW!" she screamed at him, very scared of the ball.

"What are you on about, oh!" he said, finally noticing the ball. It was too late. As Draco tried to adjust the path of the broom, difficult when there was someone sitting in front of you, Hermione did the only thing she could think of to avoid it. She ducked.

Unfortunately Draco didn't have the presence of mind to do the same, and it caught him full in the chest, knocking him backwards off the broom. The Bludger raced to the other end of the pitch, where Hermione thought she saw a figure on the ground.

That was the least of her concerns, though, as she looked down. She tried to move, to catch him, but she couldn't get her body to do anything. Draco screamed, but was quickly silenced with a muffled thump as he hit the ground.

"Oh no, oh no," Hermione said, finally snapping out of her paralysis. "Down!" she ordered the broom. It went up a few feet. "Stop being contrary! Down!" It moved up again. _This is all my fault, I might have killed him…_

Trying to calm herself down, which wasn't working very well, she tried to remember how to make a broom go down. It wasn't often that she forgot a lesson, and she cursed herself for blanking out at such a crucial time. _Why didn't I tell him about it earlier? Why did I duck? This is horrible!_

Taking a deep breath, Hermione leaned forward on the broom. It shot forward several feet, nearly scaring her off. She took another deep breath and tilted it downward, causing it to decline slowly. She tilted it some more, speeding up her descent. When she neared the ground she jumped off, not bothering to remember how to properly dismount.

Hermione ran towards Draco's prone body, trying to remember any spells that might help him. As she got closer she dropped to her knees next to him.

"Draco!" She shook his shoulder gently, and he moaned. Hermione let out a sigh of relief, at least he wasn't dead. "Can you hear me?" His eyes fluttered open, and he winced. "Where does it hurt?" she asked, looking around to see if there was anyone to help. His eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"Who are you?"


	20. This Was Clever When I Started

**Chapter 19**

Hermione tried to process what Draco had just said. _Who are you?_ His voice echoed in her head.

"Are you…are you joking?" she asked after a pause. Draco looked completely bewildered.

"I feel like I've seen you before, but I dunno where…" he trailed off as the girl in front of him adopted a horrified expression. He tried to sit up, but lay back gasping. Hermione rocked back and forth, tears threatening to fall.

_Oh no, oh no, oh no, _she kept repeating to herself. _I've broken Malfoy and it's all my fault. I've broken Draco Malfoy. Bloody hell…_ Somewhere in the tumult of fear, guilt, and self-pity when she realized that she would be held accountable, there sparked a rational thought. She stopped rocking back and forth and stood up, taking out her wand.

"Lean back," she told Draco, her voice quivering. He obliged without any argument, which was a sure sign something was wrong with him. She sent a messenger spell to Madame Pomfrey, and then tried to make him as comfortable as she could.

A very prone Draco said nothing as Hermione fussed about, he just watched her. He was sure if he had the energy he would be screaming in pain and causing a scene –that always brought his mummy running-, but he felt drained. And worse, whenever he tried to think of where he was, or why he was on the ground, he drew a blank.

"Where am I?" he asked, looking past Hermione at the surroundings. None of it he recognized.

"On the Quidditch pitch," she said cautiously, glancing over her shoulder to see if Madame Pomfrey was coming yet.

"I see _that_," Draco said, and indeed he could. He could make out the goal posts and the stands, he just couldn't figure out why he was lying there. Where could he be that had a Quidditch pitch?

"Oh, we're, we're at Hogwarts," Hermione said shakily. She looked over her shoulder again. Ah, there was Madame Pomfrey. The nurse was hurrying as fast as she could towards them.

"Hogwarts?" he asked. "Oh, that school. Daddy told me about that. He said there were houses, and told me that I would do best in, in…" Draco trailed off, trying to think of the name.

"Slytherin?" Hermione asked quietly. She wondered if he knew his father had been killed. Draco's face brightened immediately, though he still looked in pain.

"Ah, yes, that's the one! Slytherin. I hope I'm sorted there; I don't want to let him down. Imagine if I was in, what was it, Huggle something or other. I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

Hermione froze. So he didn't know his father was dead. He didn't know he was already _in_ Slytherin. And he didn't have a very high opinion of the Hufflepuffs. Well, no surprises there.

"What _happened_?" asked a very shaken and out of breath Madame Pomfrey as she drew closer. Hermione let out a barely noticeable relieved sigh; at least she didn't have to reply. Honestly she had no idea how to handle this situation.

"I, no, I mean yes, well-" Hermione started, fumbling over her words.

"Out with it, Miss Granger!" the nurse said as she knelt by Draco, taking out her wand and spelling him on to a stretcher she conjured.

"Malfoy fell off his broom," she said in a rush. He looked indignant even as Madame Pomfrey checked his vitals.

"I would do no such thing! Daddy taught me how to fly real good!" he said.

"There was an accident with a Bludger, and it knocked him off," Hermione clarified. He looked slightly better about it. Meanwhile Madame Pomfrey started to hurry back towards the castle, the stretcher levitating beside her. Hermione jogged alongside them.

"Well, Mr. Malfoy, you have quite a serious head injury. I cast a spell to reduce the swelling of the brain, so you are in no immediate danger, but until we get back to the hospital wing I will be unable to gauge just how bad the damage was. I suspect mild to moderate amnesia," Madame Pomfrey said briskly as she walked along.

_Mild? Like hell; he doesn't even remember being at Hogwarts,_ Hermione thought as they entered the castle.

---

After Draco was situated and put into an induced sleep, Hermione tried to back out of the hospital wing unnoticed. Unfortunately, she backed right into Professor Dumbledore.

"Ah, Miss Granger, how delightful. Just the person I wanted to see." Hermione bit her lip and avoided his gaze. On one hand, this was probably about the broom incident, which was a discussion she wanted to avoid with the Headmaster. On the other, he wouldn't have said it was delightful to see her if she was in trouble. Well, perhaps he would. She was dragged out of her musings, however, when he spoke again.

"Miss Granger? Still there? Good. Shall we retreat to my office?" Hermione stood rooted to the spot. "Here is fine too," Dumbledore said amiably as he sat down on a cot, making himself comfortable. She sat down across from him wordlessly. "Now, would you care to tell me what happened this afternoon with Mr. Malfoy?" he asked.

"Well, umm-" Hermione started. She wondered exactly what she could say about what happened without lying. She thought that it was, of course, entirely her fault; and she would be held to blame if anything permanent had happened to Malfoy. "Well," she started again, still not looking into the Headmaster's eyes, "A Bludger got loose some how, and knocked Malfoy off his broom. He didn't see it coming, I suppose." _And I didn't warn him until it was too late._

"Is there anything you would like to add?" Hermione shook her head.

"No, Professor." She finally dared to look up at him, and saw him nod.

"Very well then. Have a nice day, Miss Granger," he said before smiling at her and walking out. She sighed in relief, and picked herself up, ready to leave.

"Miss Granger?" a voice behind her called. Hermione sighed, of course it wouldn't be that easy. She turned around in time to see Madame Pomfrey bustle over to her. "Mr. Malfoy started asking for the girl who rescued him as soon as he woke up. I assume that means you."

"Thank you," Hermione said hollowly, reluctantly beginning the trek over to Malfoy's bed. Right now she wanted to be in the common room with Harry and Ron, not in the hospital wing with Malfoy…again.

"Wait a moment. Before you see him, I must warn you. The most current memories he has are from when he was seven years old." Hermione gasped.

"That means-"

"Yes, he still thinks he's a little boy. He knows nothing about You-Know-Who's return to power, or his father…I assume he told you about that?" Hermione nodded. "Right. Well, just be careful when you talk to him. He's very fragile right now." Hermione blanched. Some day this was turning out to be.


	21. But My Muse Has Departed

**Chapter 20**

Hermione nervously made her way to Draco's bed, where she sat in a chair next to him. He looked up at her and smiled.

"Hello," he said. Hermione wasn't sure how to reply. There was Draco, a _smiling_ Draco, in a bed, _smiling_, greeting her. And _smiling_. He had smiled at her before, ever since that letter incident, but it had always seemed forced. This was so genuine.

"Hi," she said.

"What's your name?" he asked. "The nurse lady said that I got a nasty bump on the head, and I can't remember things now." Hermione felt a surge of emotion, but quickly swallowed it. She hadn't just thought that Draco was _cute_ when he spoke like a seven year old, did she? No, of course not. It must have been pity she was feeling. Yes, that was it; it had been a surge of pity.

"Hermione Granger," she said, smiling slightly. Draco grinned more broadly.

"Herrr-mmy-ooown-eee," he said, sounding out the syllables, "That's a pretty name." Hermione was shocked. Draco thought her name was pretty? She quickly shook it off; the current Malfoy would never think her name was pretty. He had nine years to change.

"You wanted to talk to me?" she asked. He nodded.

"I wanted to say thank you, 'cause daddy taught me proper manners." Hermione had to fight back a snort; obviously these 'proper manners' disappeared when he was older. But wait, did he just apologise?

"What for?" Hermione asked.

"For saving my life," Draco said earnestly. Immediately Hermione felt guilty. He thought that he had saved her life, when really all she had done was knock him off his broom in the first place.

"You're welcome, Malfoy," she said. His eyebrows knitted.

"Call me Draco, please? If you call me by my surname, it's like you don't like me. Like we aren't _friends_," he said.

"Umm…" Hermione really didn't know how to tell him that they were, in fact, sworn enemies. Well, mostly. She didn't know what to think of the last couple of days.

"And," Draco continued, "I dunno why I would have been flying with you if we weren't friends. That doesn't make any sense at _all_."

Hermione sighed. _No, no it doesn't_, she thought.

"We _are_ friends, right?" Draco asked anxiously. "You're so nice, I'd want you as a friend." Hermione sighed again.

"Yes, we're friends." She didn't know why she was lying, but it obviously seemed to comfort him, as he looked relieved.

"That's good. I haven't had too many friends. My daddy tells me not to talk to any Muggles, because they're dirt-" Hermione stiffened when he said this, but he continued without noticing, "-and there aren't many wizards by our Manor. I don't think Muggles are dirt," he added pensively, "they look like humans to me. They don't look like dirt at all. But we aren't the same, are we?" Hermione smiled.

"No, we're not all the same. But that doesn't mean wizards are _above_ Muggles. We just have different abilities, and different strengths," she said. Draco looked like he was thinking, and then he nodded.

"That sounds right. But then daddy said that it was their blood that was dirty. But I saw a girl that was bleeding once, a Muggle girl, and her blood didn't look any different than mine. It wasn't muddy, it was just as red as mine." Hermione's smile widened.

"Exactly. Blood is blood." Hermione's smile faded slightly as she wondered what had changed this open minded child into such a cruel person. There was a silence.

"Hermi?" Draco asked. Hermione nodded, amused by her new nickname.

"Yes, Draco?"

"I'm scared about classes. Madame Pommy said that I was a student here, but I don't remember anything." Hermione patted his shoulder reassuringly.

"It'll be okay. You were a very good student, I'm sure you'll remember things." In truth Hermione had no idea whether or not he was a good student, but she knew his father would have probably pushed him to do well.

"Hermi?" he asked again. She smiled.

"Yes?"

"Would you go to classes with me?" he asked, widening his grey eyes and giving her a look which she was obviously supposed to pity. Hermione had never thought she'd live to see the day when Draco gave her puppy dog eyes. It was obvious this look had worked on his mother when he was seven, and now it was supposed to work on her now.

She was fully aware that he was manipulating her, but he looked so innocent and _cute_. And what if he actually _was_ scared of classes? Wouldn't he appreciate a friendly face? Hermione smiled dryly to herself. He wouldn't appreciate her if he was in his right mind, that's for sure. But still…

"Sure, Draco." His face broke into a wide smile.

"You're my best friend, Hermi!" he said.

"But," she started, and his smile faded, "we have to ask the Headmaster first. I'm not sure exactly how it would work. We're in different houses, and you're probably taking different classes than I am." Draco frowned, his facing creasing into an expression Hermione was much more familiar with than his smile. "He can probably work something out, though," she said hastily, for some reason not wanted Draco to frown. He grinned again, and she felt relieved.


	22. To a Happier Place

**Chapter 21**

After a long talk with Dumbledore, where it had been decided that Draco would follow Hermione around to her Gryffindor classes until he got his memory back, Hermione had left for the library and Draco was sitting alone in his hospital bed. It was late afternoon, and he was waiting for his dinner to be brought to him. Draco yawned, thinking of taking a nap, when some girl he didn't know practically ran into the hospital wing. _She looks like a pug_, Draco thought with distaste.

"Draco!" she screamed at him. He looked both ways, hoping maybe Hermione would come and get rid of this loud girl. "Don't think I don't know what you're up to!" she yelled again, hitting him in the chest. He winced, more for show than actual pain.

"Go away," he said, trying to bat her away, "Or I'll get my daddy!"

"You little snake! I know you're just doing this for the bet, and it won't work! Even that Granger wouldn't fall for it, Malfoy!" she huffed. She took a deep breath, and Draco took that moment to cut her off.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. You scare me. Please go away before I curse you." In reality he couldn't remember any curses, but if he was lucky it might get her to leave.

She closed her eyes. When she opened them her face was much more controlled, and it was obvious she was trying to look pleasant. It wasn't working. "But still, I forgive you, Draco. And when you lose the bet I'm still planning to take you up on your side of the deal," she continued, as though she hadn't heard a word he had just said.

With that she stood up, and left the hospital wing looking pleased with herself, and her nose in the air. Draco blinked, wondering what she was talking about. It didn't have anything to do with Hermione, did it? Bet?

Late that night Hermione had just crawled into bed, and was just drifting off to sleep when there was a frantic pounding on the dormitory doors. Parvati opened a bleary eye.

"Someone get the door," she mumbled.

"Not me," Lavender yawned, and Parvati seemed to have already fallen asleep. Hermione grumbled as she got out of bed and opened the door.

"Miss Granger!" whoever it was said, pulling her farther out of her room and closing the door. It was…Madame Pomfrey?

"What is it?" Hermione asked, confused.

"It's Mr. Malfoy!" she said, and Hermione immediately tensed. Had something happened to him? Was he all right? If something drastic had happened, like if he slipped into a coma, he would die and it would be all her fault… "He's scared of the dark and he keeps screaming and throwing things!" Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. "We have him under a body bind, but that can cause severe psychological strain. It definitely isn't good for whatever fragile state of mind he's in, and I don't want to cause permanent damage." She looked like she very much wanted to cause Malfoy permanent damage, but her job forced her to do otherwise.

"Wait, why do you need me?" she asked. Madame Pomfrey continued, looking rather irked that she had been interrupted.

"He kept calling for you, and we don't think he can get the sleep he needs until you come," she said as she pulled Hermione down the stairs and through the common room. "He was disturbing the other patients."

Hermione had never thought there would be a day when she was glad Malfoy was screaming for her and throwing things, but here it was. If he was so violent it meant that he probably wasn't going to slip into a coma and die, and she wouldn't feel so guilty.

With a shock she realised that they were already in front of the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey ushered her inside, and took off her body bind from the patient in the sixth bed down.

"Hermi!" Draco immediately screamed.

"Shh!" she said, worried that he would wake up the other patients. They looked like they needed their sleep, one of them seemed to have half turned into a flower pot, and another looked like he was being held together with spell-o-tape.

"Hermi!" he cried again, this time much more softly. "I can't go to sleep, or else the sphinx will get me!" Hermione almost laughed at this.

"Sphinxes aren't violent. I'm sure none of them would want to hurt you," she said as she started tucking him back into bed, smoothing out his sheets. She didn't add that they were only non-violent if one correctly solved their difficult riddle. Draco looked slightly relieved.

"What about the Medusa? I don't want Medusa to get me!" Hermione shook her head.

"There hasn't been a medusa sighting anywhere near here since 1846. And even if one did find its way to this area, there are wards that would stop it from entering the castle." Draco sighed with relief.

"That's good. What about a puffskein? I'm scared of puffskeins." This time Hermione did laugh, though she quickly covered it up with a cough. Draco was scared of _puffskeins_?

"Well, umm, they're very cuddly," she tried to reassure him. He shuddered. "There are puffskein wards too," Hermione quickly made up. Draco gave a sigh of relief.

"That's good." He yawned. "Tell me a story, Hermi."

"About what?" she asked, lying down in the bed next to his. It didn't look like she was going to sleep in her own bed tonight.

"Tell me a Muggle story," he said. "Mum never tells me those." Hermione grinned, and made up a story about Marcel the Muggle Mime and his adventures on the Paris subway. By the time she was done Draco was fast asleep, and Hermione drifted off to sleep herself with a smile.


	23. With Frills and Lace

**Chapter 22**

Harry was in Dumbledore's office, discussing Legilimency, when a very nervous Fudge entered. Dumbledore raised his eyebrow.

"Can I help you, Minister?" he asked.

"Erm, yes," he said. Harry stood up to leave, but Dumbledore shook his head, motioning him to stay.

"Cornelius shouldn't be long," he told the student. Harry nodded, looking uncomfortable. He wasn't the only one, Fudge was fiddling actively with his bowler hat.

"Right, well, actually…" he trailed off into a mutter, where only the words 'advice' and 'You-Know-Who' were understandable. Dumbledore raised his eyebrow.

"I'm afraid that you're going to need to speak more clearly. My ears aren't what they used to be, you see." Harry highly doubted there was anything wrong with his ears.

"Fine!" Fudge said irately. "I need advice on how to get You-Know-Who out in the open, because we can't launch an offensive while he stays bottled up." He said this last bit sullenly, obviously still angry that he had been in the wrong during Voldemort's ascension to power.

"You-Know-Who? I'm afraid I don't know who, Cornelius," Dumbledore said pleasantly.

"Now you're just being difficult, Dumbledore! He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!"

"And why shouldn't he be named?"

"The Dark bloody Lord, you miserable old man!**(!!1!one!)**" he bellowed. The Headmaster's smile never flickered.

"Come now, we've had this discussion before, fear of a name-"

"Finish that and I will personally bully the school board into firing you. I'm at the end of my tether, can't you see that? I have no time for these games!" Fudge looked like he was about to cry. Harry, who had been watching the exchange, raised his hand timidly. Both men looked at him.

"Yes Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

"Well, I have an idea."

---

Hermione gently shook Draco awake. He yawned and looked at her slightly angrily.

"What was that for? I was having a good dream," he muttered, voice still thick with sleep. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You already missed breakfast in the Great Hall, so Madame Pomfrey had some food brought up. You need to start eating now if we're going to make it to class on time." He nodded mournfully and picked up a spoon for his oatmeal.

"Why do I need to go to class?" he whined through a mouthful of the cereal.

"Because Professor Dumbledore thinks it will help you get your memory back," she said, a bit snappishly. Even though having a child's mentality made Malfoy's actions infinitely more adorable, he could still be a brat. He didn't reply, just finished his breakfast in a slightly angry silence. By the time Draco was done he seemed to have forgotten that he was annoyed with Hermione, and was back to being perfectly friendly.

A few minutes later he was out of the hospital cot and had finished getting ready, and was now waiting for Hermione to finish stuffing her books into her bag. Finally the last book fit in, and she sighed with relief as she stood up.

"Okay, let's go!" she said, leading Draco out of the hospital wing. He followed her at a close pace, looking around in wonder. Some people looked on curiously as Hermione pointed out what the things they were passing were.

"This is the Transfiguration room; we're going there after Care of Magical Creatures. This is the Arithmancy corridor, it's not used much but there's a passage leading outside from behind this tapestry." She led him through and down a narrow staircase. "Careful, this is a trick step," she said as she jumped it. A few minutes later she emerged through what looked like a solid stone wall into the courtyard, a very awed Malfoy still in tow.

"This is even more bigger than my manor," he said. Hermione nodded.

"It probably is. Now, let's hurry up, class is about to start," she said as she ran towards where the Care of Magical Creatures class was meeting, Draco working to keep pace. Normally this wouldn't have been a problem, but he was still a bit sore from yesterday.

"Oh, there ya are Hermione!" Hagrid said as she puffed onto the knoll. Ron looked relieved she had shown up, and Harry was still with Dumbledore. "And Malfoy," he acknowledged.

"You can call me Draco," he said graciously. A few people snickered, and Hagrid raised his eyebrow.

"Righ'," he said suspiciously. "Well, as I was just explainin', today we'll be workin' with some new creatures." Almost everyone eyed the boxes behind Hagrid with a mixture of fear and apprehension. Draco just looked curious.

"These," Hagrid said as he pulled off the top of a crate and reached inside, "Are Glitternewts." He pulled forth what looked like a very shiny lizard. It seemed like it was rainbow colored, but the light reflecting off of it made it a bit hard to tell. The reflecting made it seem like a small, newt shaped, moving disco ball. A few people gasped, some in fear and some in appreciation.

"It bites, doesn't it?" Pansy shrieked. When he noticed her Draco stepped closer to Hermione, obviously more frightened of her than the Glitternewt. Hagrid shook his head with a twinge of sadness.

"Nah, it's not dangerous. These are our new projects; you're goin' to take care of em in partners. Can anyone tell me what a Glitternewt is?" Hermione's hand shot up, and with a smile Hagrid motioned for her to answer.

"Glitternewts were discovered relatively recently, and not too much is known about their magical properties. They can be domesticated and kept as pets, though they are expensive to keep because of their appetite for gold, which is the only thing they'll eat. They are thought to be a relative of the salamander, because they also repel flame." Hagrid nodded.

"These uns are young, and luckily haven't got the taste for gold yet. Now they'll eat any metal, so they won' be too much of a hassle to feed. You can choose yer partners now." Ron turned to Hermione, but Draco got there first.

"Be my partner, Hermi?" he asked sweetly, and she smiled.

"Sure," she said, causing him to grin. Ron looked outraged.

"What's happening?" he practically screamed. Hermione looked puzzled.

"I didn't tell you? Draco lost his memory and now he's following me around to my classes." Ron did a very admirable fish impression.

"What?!" he finally managed. "Why!? 'Draco'? _'Hermi'_?! Act! Can't see? No!" He seemed to be having immense trouble stringing words together. Hermione narrowed her eyes, and put her hand on Draco's shoulder.

"Yes, I'm calling him Draco, and he calls me Hermi. You better get used to it. And it isn't an act, I saw the whole accident. And _yes,_" Hermione said, leaving Ron still gaping. Draco looked at him curiously.

"Who are you?" he asked. Ron looked like he was both paling and turning red at the same time, making him look rather blotchy.

"This is Ron Weasley," Hermione said, seeing how Ron wasn't going to answer. Draco extended his hand to him.

"I'm Draco Malfoy, and I've heard your name before. My dad hates your dad because he loves Muggles and you're poor." His hand was still extended, and he was obviously expecting Ron to shake it. Ron looked from Draco's face to his hand, and back to his face. He fainted. Hermione looked at him in worry.

"Hagrid!" she called. "Ron fainted, but I think he'll be alright. He's going to be partners with Harry, and I'll be partners with Draco." Hagrid nodded skeptically.

"If ya want. An' if he doesn' get better in a few minutes I'll take him up ter the hospital wing. Righ' then," he said to the class, "If ya 'ave your partners yer dismissed, an' write six inches on taking care of Glitternewts fer the next lesson."

---

"An idea, Harry?" Dumbledore asked. "Do tell." Harry looked to Fudge, who gestured for him to continue also.

"Well, if you want to get him out in the open, you can just use something as bait. I…I'll do it," he said in a slightly faltering but resolute voice.

"No Harry," Dumbledore said as he shook his head, "We can't risk you like that." Fudge had calmed down, and was looking pensive.

"Bait, eh? The idea has merit. Perhaps a Muggle family?" Dumbledore didn't look too happy about it, but nodded slightly in acceptance.

"As long as every precaution is taken," he said. The minister nodded impatiently.

"Yes, yes, of course." He already knew who he had in mind as he tipped his hat and left. It had to be the Muggle family of a witch or wizard, and there was only one family that the Dark Lord would probably want to see to personally. The family of a certain witch, a friend of the Dark Lord's arch nemesis. Yes. The Grangers it would be.


	24. This Aint Over Yet

**Chapter 23**

Graham and Holly Granger spread out their blanket on the beach, setting up their picnic.

"Well, this was nice of Hermione's Ministry, wasn't it?" Graham asked, plopping down on the blanket. The beach was deserted, and there was a very nice view. Holly nodded.

"Yes. I never knew that the student with the top grades earned a trip for their parents, but I'm not complaining," she said, laughing a bit. Though her dark hair was cut short, it was obvious where Hermione got it from. Graham nodded, pulling the picnic basket closer.

"Yes, they provided us with lunch and everything." A man wearing an invisibility cloak knitted his eyebrows in confusion. _They hadn't given the Grangers lunch…_

Graham opened the basket, and there was a flash of green light.

---

Hermione paused, waiting for Draco to catch up. It had been their third lesson with the Glitternewts in Care of Magical Creatures class, and they had only just started getting really involved with them. Draco had taken his sweet time in leaving; he was fascinated by them.

"Come on, Draco," she said, jerking her head slightly in the direction of the castle, "We need to get moving."

"I-" he started, sinking to the ground. Hermione rushed to his side.

"Draco? Are you alright?" she asked frantically. He didn't answer.

---

Twenty minutes later they were in the hospital wing, Hermione sitting by Draco's bedside. She still felt responsible, and it would be no good at all if he died now. Wasn't there supposed to be a spell for this? Madame Pomfrey tapped her lightly on the shoulder, giving Hermione a start.

"Oh," she said, breathing a bit more quickly than she would have. "Is he going to be okay?" Madame Pomfrey nodded.

"I believe so. And unless I am much mistaken, he is simply starting to get his memory back. It will by no means be a quick process, and he may never remember some things at all. Some things just need to sort themselves out on their own." Hermione nodded. She wasn't sure if she was glad Draco was getting his memory back, he was just so _polite_ when he was younger.

---

Fudge slammed his head repeatedly on his desk.

"Why me?" he cried, not ceasing the pounding. His assistants, not trying to make him stop beating himself, bit back responses to the obviously rhetorical question. "They just had to bloody _die_, didn't they? How's this going to look to the public?"

---

When Draco opened his eyes, he saw a mess of curly brown hair on the side of his bed. And yes, there was a head connected to the hair, just as he had suspected. And a body…Granger's body. He poked her in the side of the head.

"Get off my bed, Granger. You might soil-" he stopped as memories came flooding back. _My father…_He shut his eyes tightly, trying to will this away.

"Draco…?" Hermione asked tentatively.

"Granger. Just get out," he said in a low voice, his eyes still shut. Hermione nodded, though somewhere in the back of her mind it registered that he couldn't see.

"Okay, Malfoy," she said instead as she stood up, walking toward the door. "If there's anything-"

"Leave." Hermione sighed as she walked off toward the library. She had homework to do.

---

An owl rapped at the common room window, and a third year rushed to open it.

"It's for a Hermione Granger," he said, looking around at everyone. "Are any of you a Hermione Gr-"

"I'll take it," Harry said. Seeing the boy's skeptical look he hastily added that she was his best friend. The third year reluctantly handed it to him, and Harry brought it over to where Ron was sitting by the fire.

"Do you think we should open it?" he asked, eyeing it curiously.

"I don't care," Ron said sullenly, still sore about the Care of Magical Creatures class from a few days ago, and how Hermione was working with Malfoy.

"Well, if it's important we should get her now, but if it's not we should leave her be," Harry mused to himself. Ron shrugged halfheartedly. "Well, only one way to find out," he said as he carefully slit it open. As he read it his face paled, and Ron's interest sparked.

"Well, what is it?" he asked, but Harry didn't answer, just resealed the letter with shaking fingers.

"We need to get Hermione. Now."


	25. Nor Shall it Abet

**Chapter 24**

Harry ran to the library, Ron trailing him. Harry had pieced together what had happened, it wasn't that hard. He had told Fudge to use Muggles as bait - well, sort of - and that stupid Minister had used the Grangers. Unfortunately there had been an accident with a cursed picnic basket, which had killed them both. Therefore, because it was his idea in the first place, he had killed his best friend's parents.

Harry realised exactly what he had just thought, and stopped suddenly. Ron skid into a halt right before he crashed into him, breathing heavily.

"Are you going to tell me what it is now?" Ron asked, sounding a bit put out. Harry, too busy processing the fact that _he_ had as well as _killed _two innocent people -who happened to be _Hermione's_ parents-, didn't even hear him.

"Maybe I just won't tell her…" he muttered to himself. Taking advantage of Harry's lack of response, Ron reached over and plucked the letter from his shaking fingers. Harry didn't notice.

Ron skimmed it. His eyes went wide and his face paled, and he read it again. He took a deep breath, and pocketed it.

"Come on, let's tell her. She'll find out soon enough, and it might be easier if she hears it from us."

_You don't know the half of it_, Harry thought miserably as he nodded, and they continued on to the library.

---

Wordlessly Harry and Ron entered the library, and moved to stand on either side of Hermione. She looked at them in confusion.

"You haven't actually come to study, have you? Or is there some fiendish plot afoot? That's the only time you really come to the library willingly." She smiled a bit at her own joke, but Harry and Ron just exchanged a pained look. Hermione picked up on it, and her humor disappeared.

"There _isn't_ some fiendish plot afoot, is there? Oh no, no one _died_ did they?" she asked, her voice dropping lower as she looked left and right to make sure they weren't being overheard. Ron took the letter from his pocket and handed it over.

"Have you been reading my mail?" Hermione asked suspiciously, and Ron realized that he had forgotten to seal the letter. Harry bit his lip.

"Just…read it, please," he said, and Hermione gave him one last suspicious look before taking out the parchment.

---

Hermione kept reading the letter, over and over again. The words simply didn't register, no matter how many times her eyes passed over them. Dead. Parents. Dead. Both. Dead. You-Know-Who. Dead. Picnic basket. Dead.

It was just too much, and while still reading the letter she sunk to the floor. Harry wrung his hands together nervously.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione. I really, really am."

"No…You didn't do anything…" she said, sounding distant. Harry winced.

"Actually…" he began, but stopped. _She doesn't need to know it was me, really._ He winced again, and opened his mouth to tell her exactly what part he had played in this. _Damn Gryffindor honesty. Are Gryffindors even supposed to be honest? Isn't that more of a Hufflepuff deal? Well, I guess this is taking a bit of bravery too. Why _couldn't_ I have been in Slytherin? That would make lying so much easier. Well, I could lie. But the sorting hat put me in Gryffindor. Oh, who cares about the bloody hat. I mean, it _is_ a hat. Why am I letting a hat dictate my actions? _

Harry stood there with his mouth open, ready to speak as Ron looked at him strangely. It looked like Harry had been put on pause, not that Ron was familiar with the Muggle version of the word. Then, in a rush, Harry told her everything. Ron turned from white to red, and then to purple because in all his indignation he had forgotten to breathe. Hermione looked like she wanted to throttle him, but was so angry she couldn't move. Instead, she fainted.

---

Draco rolled over from his back onto his side as the Weasley carried in Hermi. Granger. He meant Granger.

"Being apart from me for so long hazardous to her health?" he asked, as bitingly as he could. After Ron put Hermione carefully on a bed he whipped around to face him.

"You- You slimy git!" he exclaimed. Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"Imaginative, Weasley. And what's _wrong_ with her? Apart from the obvious."

"I'm not telling you, you horrible thing!"

"I have a right to be a horrible slimy git thing. My father-" his voice hitched dramatically, "-died." He had figured out that while it was a personal catastrophe, he might as well use it to his advantage.

"Both of her parents died!" Ron yelled, losing any patience he had.

"Ah." _Two less Muggles, can't complain. _"When?" Ron, completely put by Malfoy's absolute lack of empathy, started turning even more funny colors. "Something wrong, Weasley?" Malfoy asked, raising an eyebrow. Though he was hiding it well, he actually was a bit sorry for Granger. Only a bit though, why worry about someone else when you had problems of your own?

Ron took a deep breath and, without answering Malfoy, went to find Madame Pomfrey. After alerting her to Hermione's condition, he stomped out of the hospital wing.

---

When Draco woke up he found Hermione lying on the bed next to his. It was obvious that she wasn't asleep; her eyes were trained at the ceiling and she was gripping the sheets balled in her hands so tightly her knuckles were white.

"Granger?" Her eye twitched, but she said nothing. For someone who had just lost her parents she didn't look sad as much as, well, angry. Draco had of course not been around her long enough to realize with these symptoms he was treading on dangerous ground (if Harry and Ron had seen her they would most likely be running for cover). So, against his better judgment, he continued.

"Granger," he tried again. Hermione's eyes flashed and her lips formed a tight line. Her entire body tensed, and for a moment Draco thought that she was going to spring from her bed and attack him. Only now did he realise exactly how thin this ice was, and in anticipation of the inevitable physical or verbal assault he braced himself.

However, it turned out the inevitable was in fact evitable, and instead of attacking him she just went slack. The anger had gone, for the most part, and all that was left was tiredness and a very deep sadness. Draco figured this was safer for him, and again he started to prod.

"You look like it was one of your _friends_ that killed your parents, Granger." He smirked a bit at his little joke, but Hermione didn't seem to find it very funny.

"It was," she said, sounding exhausted.

"Ah. Well then. Which one? It was Weasley, wasn't it?" he asked, growing more and more curious.

"Potter, actually."

"Potter, is it? What happened to," he adopted a ridiculously high pitched tone, "_Harry!_"

"Not what _has_ happened to him, what _will_ happen to him."

**A/N: Um...Hi guys?**


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